‘I knows all that,’ Jake said patiently. ‘Me and
Priddy make sure you’ve a few coppers in your pocket when we are near towns wi’ shops, but it ain’t good enough, Clem. You do a man’s work, and – and pretty soon, you’ll be havin’ a man’s needs. When did you last go to a picture house, eh, or visit a dog track? Or go out to Aintree to watch the racing? I’m not sayin’ you want to do such things, but I am saying that if you do want to see a fillum or take a pretty girl dancin’, then you should be able to do so. Priddy and me talked it over and we decided you should have a third share in the profits. It ain’t a lot, because we pays all expenses first, but it’ll be money of your own and you’ll get it at the end of each trip. All right?’
‘You don’t need to do that,’ Clem mumbled. ‘You’ve been so good to me, you couldn’t have been better if I’d been your own son. Besides, what would I spend money on? Priddy makes my clothes and my food and you feed Brutus here . . . I don’t deny I’d like to see more of Lizzie when we’re in Liverpool, maybe treat her to a show or a meal, but other than that . . .’
‘You can save your money for your future, if you’ve no better use for it,’ Priddy put in. ‘One of these days, you’re goin’ to want to get married, a good-looking lad like you, and then you’ll be surprised how the money goes. And I only provide you wi’ workin’ clothes, you know. If you were to go dancin’, you’d want a suit, wouldn’t you?’
‘I don’t know,’ Clem said helplessly. In the old days when he had lived with his parents in the little mining village he had had a grey flannel suit for wear at weddings, funerals and Sunday services. The canal people always tried to get to church or chapel on a Sunday but attended such services in their working clothes, though the women would shed their practical aprons and don straw hats in summer and clean, dark
head scarves when the weather was bad. ‘Still an’ all, Jake, if you truly think I’m worth it and it won’t make things difficult, it ’ud be grand to be earnin’ a wage. Now I’d best be off or poor old Brutus won’t get his run.’
As he made his way past a rippling stream, he stopped for a moment to let the dog slake his thirst in the clear, dappled water. He could see tiny fish beneath the surface, darting in and out of the tumble of rocks which formed the floor of the stream, and wondered idly as he climbed higher, making his way amongst the slender saplings of silver birch and willow, whether there were trout lying in the deep pools further down stream. If there were, it would be fun to bring his rod up here and see if he could get a fish or two for supper. It would be even better, he thought dreamily, skirting the moss-covered piles of rock which abounded in this area, if he could catch some fish and take them to Liverpool for Lizzie. He knew this was not a practical dream, however. Fish caught up here on the moors would be well and truly past its best by the time
The Liverpool Rose
arrived in Liverpool docks.
Having emerged from the trees, Clem felt the breeze on his face as he climbed higher and was glad to be in open country once more. He let his thoughts dwell lovingly on what Jake had said to him: that he was doing a man’s work and would, in future, be paid a man’s wage. He had always liked Lizzie, thought her the prettiest girl of his acquaintance, and even now, when he was on friendly terms with a good many of the young women who worked other boats on the canal, he liked her best. But because of Brutus and the difficulties of working the canal, he rarely had an opportunity to seek her out. Either they met by
chance, or they did not meet at all, and he had a shrewd suspicion that since his acquisition of Brutus, Lizzie no longer came down to the canal when she thought
The Liverpool Rose
was berthed there.
But now that he would be earning a wage, all this would surely change. He could leave Brutus with Priddy or Jake and ask Lizzie to go dancing or to a picture house or simply to accompany him when he went shopping for the various commodities which Priddy needed. Because of his own hard work and that of the others, they really did have more time at either end of their journey now. Jake paid any strong young lads loafing about the dockside, to help them load and unload and this gave them free time which had not been possible when there were only two of them to do the heavy work.
A muffled yap from Brutus made him look round. The dog was staring at a fox which trotted across a clearing before disappearing behind a tumble of boulders. ‘You’re a good lad not to chase him . . .’ Clem was beginning when he suddenly remembered his own duties, gave a guilty start and turned back towards the canal once more. He had best get back. He must tack up the horse and re-attach the tow rope before they could move on, and now that he knew a wage awaited him in Liverpool, he was even keener to arrive there.
Whistling the dog to heel, he set off down the hill once more.
Lizzie stood just inside the front door of number nine, looking out disgustedly at the rain which was being blown almost horizontal by the wind which came howling in at the narrow entrance to the court. She had meant to go down to the canal to see whether
The
Liverpool Rose
was yet berthed, for she thought the boat might be coming in some time during the next two or three days, but now the weather was making her wonder whether it was really worth the wet and windy walk – and presumably a wetter and windier wait, for there was never any guarantee that the boat would be in at the time Clem had suggested. What was more, since she would not go aboard either
The Liverpool Rose
nor the butty boat in case she met Brutus face to face, she would not get the pleasant gossip with Priddy and Jake nor a comfortable half-hour in the cabin which was one of the attractions of going down to the canal. Lizzie considered, standing in the doorway and watching the rain while behind her Aunt Annie sat, hens on her lap, and darned socks for her sons.
‘Well? Are you goin’, chuck, or ain’t you? Only there’s a right mean draught comin’ through that door and me hens aren’t keen on draughts.’
Sighing to herself, Lizzie closed the door and turned back into the kitchen. She said: ‘It’s awful wet and windy. I was supposed to be going to meet Clem down at the canal, but it’ll mean hanging about . . . I thought I might get a tram up to Shaw Street and see whether Geoff’s at a loose end. But that seems as though I’m letting Clem down, ’cos I know he sets a deal of store by a bit of an outing when he’s docked in the ‘Pool. What d’you think?’
‘Oh, I’d go and see Geoff,’ Aunt Annie said comfortably. She was rather fond of Geoff, telling Lizzie frankly that he was a steady chap who would make some lucky woman a good husband one day, and suggesting that it might just as well be Lizzie as another. And the only time she had met Clem she had made it clear that she thought all canal folk were
wanderers, gypsies almost, and therefore not as reliable as bank clerks.
‘I’ll think about it,’ Lizzie said guardedly now. She went and fetched her waterproof off the back of the kitchen door and shoved her feet into her cracked Wellington boots, then wrapped a scarf round her head. ‘I’ll nip round to Sally’s, see whether she’s doing anything this afternoon. A walk to the canal wouldn’t be so bad if she came along.’
She set off, head down, still undecided what to do, and Sally was no help. She was in the act of leaving the house as Lizzie crossed the court and told her that she and her mother were bound for the home of an aunt, bidden to tea to celebrate her cousin Nellie’s fifteenth birthday.
‘Oh, well. I’ll mebbe get a lecky up to Shaw Street then,’ Lizzie told her friend. ‘See you later, Sal. Geoff’s probably studying, but I might be able to persuade him to come out for half an hour.’
As she made her way to the tram stop, Lizzie thought of Geoff with a good deal of affection. For several weeks after her pal had tackled Flossie, Lizzie truly thought the confrontation must have done the trick. She kept her eyes open but saw neither her uncle, nor Flossie, either going into or coming out of any local hostelries. When she told Geoff this, he looked rather smug, but then reminded her that had the relationship ceased, Uncle Perce would have returned to his old haunts, albeit grudgingly, without the lady. Because both parties had disappeared he was inclined to think they had merely gone to ground, but since this suited Lizzie’s book almost as well as the ending of the relationship would have done, she did not repine and was grateful to Geoff for his intervention.
The Indian summer which had followed the long wet months of June and July had ceased in mid-September with squalls of violent rain. Earlier, Clem had come visiting, telling Lizzie of his new status on board
The Liverpool Rose
and suggesting that the two of them might have some fun together when he was in the ‘Pool. Lizzie was reluctant to admit that she was still terrified of Brutus, but realised Clem was unlikely to bring the dog along if they went to the picture house or a dance hall so had agreed to his suggestion.
Unfortunately, however, it was not always possible for their free time to coincide. Aunt Annie had never fully recovered from the illness she had suffered after losing her baby, and Lizzie found herself with more and more of the housework, shopping and cleaning to do when she arrived home from work. Sally was a great help, keeping her company when she was slaving over a hot stove and going shopping with her to search for bargains along Great Homer Street and the Scottie, and Aunt Annie did her best to see that her niece had some time to herself, but Lizzie knew she was still longing for her husband to take a bit more notice of her, so did her best to ease the burden her aunt carried by continuing to work as hard as she could in the house. Her cousins, when they had lived at home, had been simply useless save for such tasks as the bringing in of water and coal. However, since they had moved out of number nine a month or so before, they could not even be counted on to perform these tasks, and though Lizzie was glad not to have to feed them or clear up after them any more, financially Aunt Annie was considerably worse off, for Uncle Perce had got into the habit of not contributing anything to the
household and, despite his wife’s pleas, continued to keep his wages to himself.
Both Herbie and Denis were courting young women who lived on the opposite side of the city, and had decided to leave home after a tremendous row with their father over his refusal to help with the household expenses. There had actually been a fight, Aunt Annie had told Lizzie when she had returned from a day out with Geoff. Uncle Perce had laid about him with a cudgel and the boys had sworn never to cross his threshold again until he apologised. ‘Which means never,’ Aunt Annie had said tearfully to her niece. ‘I know Percy, he’d die sooner than say he was sorry, though I’m sure he misses our lads as much as I do.’
Lizzie suspected that Herbie and Denis were aware of their father’s affair with Flossie, but took it more or less for granted that a man with their father’s appetites would seek female companionship elsewhere since his wife would not go out with him nor share his interest in drink. Lizzie knew that a great many men were unfaithful to their wives and that the women, though they were aware of it, did nothing to prevent such affairs. Indeed, she had heard more than one neighbour commenting that she was grate-ful her husband occasionally went with other women since it saved her from his unwanted attentions.
Despite the amount of work that Lizzie did in the house, however, she and Sally managed to find time to enjoy themselves one way or another. When they were free to do so, the two of them went about together, dancing at the Grafton Rooms in West Derby Road when they could afford the sixpence which was charged to go in after ten o’clock and frequenting the many picture houses in the city centre
when they had the money for admittance. When Clem was in Liverpool, therefore, Lizzie felt she could not simply drop her old pal in order to go about with him, for Sally still had no regular boyfriend. Once or twice Lizzie had thought of inviting Geoff to make up a foursome, but the trouble was, because of Clem’s inability to give her any advance warning that he would be in the city, arranging a date was difficult, if not impossible. So though Lizzie and Clem did manage the odd meeting, it was still rather hit and miss.
What was more, even when Brutus was not present, Lizzie always felt a little in awe of Clem. He was a lot older, and a great deal more experienced, and she could not for the life of her imagine why he still wanted to go around with her. The last time she had been down to the canal to meet him, he had been talking to a breathtakingly pretty girl with a cloud of dark hair and melting brown eyes. Clem had introduced her as: ‘Suzie Raxton, who works
The Cumberland Lass
with her mam and dad,’ and Lizzie had envied her her neat print dress and navy blue jacket, and her air of knowing her own worth. Despite the fact that Lizzie had been earning money now for a while, she seldom had anything left over to spend on clothes, certainly not on new or fashionable ones. She sometimes thought she paid more than her fair share towards household expenses, but realised that Aunt Annie was powerless to get money from her husband.
In fact her aunt frequently suggested that Lizzie might pay her less, but if she had done so they would have gone hungry towards the end of each week and this was something Lizzie felt she could not allow, so she continued to hand over the lion’s share of her
wages to her aunt every week, and to buy clothing from Paddy’s Market whenever she needed something desperately and had a shilling or two to spare.
But right now she was heading for the tram stop, having made up her mind that she
would
go and see whether Geoff could play – no, not play, come with her down to the canal to see if
The Liverpool Rose
had docked. Now that she thought about it, she remembered that Geoff and Clem had met several times before. So there would be nothing strange in suggesting that the three of them might spend a few hours together.
With this thought in mind, Lizzie climbed aboard the first tram which came along, and when it had deposited her in Islington walked through to Shaw Street and along to the YMCA where she found Geoff not studying, but playing a rather half-hearted game of chess against a bespectacled young man who seemed to be winning at an amazing rate. When Lizzie suggested that Geoff might consider coming out with her to see Clem, he jumped up with alacrity.