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Authors: Anne Baker

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BOOK: A Liverpool Legacy
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Sylvie was very upset and seemed obsessed with the idea that Marcus was out to harm her. If so, she was in an even worse state than Millie had supposed.

‘Shall I have a word with Marcus?’ she suggested. ‘Tell him to go easier on you?’

‘No! No, don’t do that.’ Sylvie was growing agitated. ‘It’ll tell him he’s getting to me and make him put more pressure on.’

Millie felt Sylvie should not back off if she truly believed Marcus was bullying her. Had she also lost the ability to stand up for herself? She said, ‘I’ll ask Miss Franklin not to send you to take letters from Marcus.’

‘Mum,’ she cried, ‘I’ve already done that.’

‘Well, hopefully you’ve solved the problem,’ she said. ‘Come on, drink your tea and we’ll knock off early today. We need to collect Kenny from Helen’s house on the way home.’

Kenny came running to open the front door to them in high good humour and threw himself into Millie’s arms. ‘I’ve had a lovely time this week. Eric took me to work yesterday. There was an auction sale on, and the stewards let me hold up the goods for the buyers to see. It was good fun. I think I’ll be an auctioneer when I grow up. Valerie is here too but I’m not to tell you anything about—’

‘Come on in,’ Valerie called. ‘Helen’s got some news for you.’ Millie could feel ripples of excitement in the atmosphere as soon as she entered the sitting room. A sandwich cake was set out on the tea trolley with the cups and saucers.

‘To celebrate,’ Helen said, waving her hand towards the cake. ‘I’m going to have another baby. We wanted to have two and I’m thrilled.’

‘They’ll be close together in age,’ Valerie said, ‘and she doesn’t realise how much work that will give her.’

‘Eric is over the moon.’

‘Congratulations to both of you.’ Millie kissed her cheek.

Sylvie was managing to smile again. She asked, ‘Do you want a boy this time or another girl?’

‘Eric would like a son, but I don’t mind.’ Helen’s dark eyes shone with happy anticipation. ‘All I want is a fit and healthy baby.’

On the bus going home Millie shared a seat with her daughter and said, ‘Isn’t Helen happy? I’m delighted for her and I’m glad you’ve seen how she welcomes another baby into the family.’

Sylvie was staring out of the window. Millie felt it her duty as a mother to point out, ‘Helen has timed everything right. She studied for a career in her teens and waited until her twenties to marry and have babies. I didn’t feel that burst of joy when I first realised I was expecting you. I was too young and had no husband. It all came right in the end for us, but I was worried stiff at the time. And after I had you I had to find time to study for a career. It isn’t the easiest way to do things. You will be happier if you get your timing right.’

Sylvie made no sign that she’d even heard her little homily.

They had a quiet weekend and by Monday morning Sylvie seemed better and able to accept that she’d have to go in to work. Millie was anxious about her all day but over supper Sylvie told her that she’d been sent to take letters from the accountant and found them manageable because they’d all been short and to the point.

‘So you’ve had a good day?’ Millie asked.

Sylvie pulled a face. ‘Denis has let the story out, just as I said he would. Everybody knows,’ she said, ‘they’re all talking about me, I’m sure, but they’ve been kind.’

‘You don’t know it was Denis who spread the gossip,’ Millie pointed out. ‘It could have been anybody.’

Sylvie snorted in disbelief. ‘Somebody has certainly opened his mouth but everybody’s on my side. Mr Lancaster said it doesn’t matter what sort of a family you come from, it’s what you make of yourself that matters.’

Millie smiled, so all had gone well. ‘And Mr Worthington treated you well?’

‘He was sort of normal, but kind too,’ she said. ‘Marcus has commandeered his secretary and left him high and dry without one.’

‘Frances Somerton?’ Frances had been employed for several years and was one of their senior secretaries. She’d worked for their previous accountant. Obviously Marcus considered her senior enough to please him.

‘They’re saying he’s increased her salary and told her it’s promotion, so she’s happy about it. He’ll probably be kind to her.’

Millie thought that high-handed of Marcus but let it pass. She thought it important to settle Sylvie and now she could see how she could help her. The next morning she went to have a word with Andrew in his office. As usual, he was busy working when she went in.

‘Do you have a minute?’ she asked. ‘I’ve a favour to ask of you.’

‘Of course.’ He pushed the comptometer to one side.

Millie sat down. ‘You know my daughter? She took dictation from you yesterday.’

‘Sylvie, yes, a charming girl.’

‘Did you find her work adequate?’

He was frowning. ‘Perfectly adequate, yes.’

‘Marcus has complained that she’s useless.’

‘Good lord! He must have got out of bed on the wrong side. No, Sylvie’s all right.’

‘She tells me Marcus has commandeered your secretary’s services.’

‘So I gather. He didn’t ask how I would feel about that.’

‘No, he’s not the most thoughtful.’ Millie hesitated for moment. ‘I’d like you to ask Miss Franklin to promote Sylvie in her place. Will you do that?’

His dark green eyes were staring into hers. ‘Why – yes, if that’s what Sylvie wants. Usually the girls aren’t keen to work for me. They don’t like typing figures and at certain times I produce page after page of them.’

‘I think she’d be very happy to work permanently for you.’ Millie went on to tell him something of Pete’s accident and the terrible effect it had had on Sylvie. ‘She thinks Marcus is bullying her, but she won’t stand up to him so he’ll do it again if he gets half a chance.’

He hesitated. ‘Are you worrying too much about your daughter? She seems to be coping well enough. She spent a week helping Frances Somerton to reorganise my files so I’ve seen something of her. She gets on well with people.’

‘She did ask Miss Franklin not to send her to work for Marcus again, but that’s the easy way out, she isn’t standing up for herself.’

He smiled. ‘But isn’t it the sensible way? She doesn’t come out with her fists up spoiling for a fight. I’d say she’s perfectly capable of looking after herself.’

‘You think I’m always spoiling for a fight?’

‘Oh dear, forgive me, I didn’t mean . . .’ His eyes came up to meet hers. ‘If I’m speaking out of turn, I’m sorry, but you don’t let Marcus and Nigel get away with anything.’

‘I can’t,’ she choked. ‘Pete would have kept them in order but I have to do it now.’

‘Well, tackling James and Marcus and telling them in the strongest possible language exactly where they’re going wrong was, I think, unwise. And you did it in front of the senior staff so it’s no secret that the owners of this company are battling it out. It got their backs up, Millie, so they’re looking for revenge. It guarantees they’ll do their best to deliver as much hurt as they can, but for Marcus to turn his ire against your daughter is despicable. She’s just a kid and less able to punch back, but he knows you won’t like it, so he targets her.’

‘You think it was my fault?’ Millie was horrified, that hadn’t occurred to her.

‘Yes, but what I’m trying to say is that I think she handled Marcus the right way. He’s a powerful man and has had a lifetime to hone his sarcasm. In a battle of words Sylvie knows she can’t beat him, but it doesn’t mean that in the future she won’t find some other way to give him a dig.’

‘Perhaps.’

‘She’s the sort who thinks before she speaks, and with due respect, you instantly leap in to lock horns.’

Millie jerked to her feet. This wasn’t what she’d wanted to hear. ‘I’d appreciate it if you’d ask for Sylvie’s services, and let both her and Miss Franklin believe it was your idea.’

‘Millie, please don’t take umbrage! I’ll be glad to help Sylvie in any way I can. I’m on your side. I know you’re finding things hard at the moment. I’m doing my best to help you.’

Millie felt somewhat mollified. ‘I suppose you think I’m an over-protective mother but Sylvie was very upset. Please be patient with her.’

‘I will.’

She stood for a moment, trying to think of a way of saying Sylvie’s self-confidence needed boosting, but she failed to find the right words and in the end said, ‘Thank you,’ and fled back to the lab.

Chapter Seventeen

Andrew Worthington stood up when Millie did, and went to open the door for her but she whisked out before he reached it. He collapsed back on his seat in surprise. Millie Maynard had revealed quite a lot of herself and her difficulties. He’d intended to ask Miss Franklin to appoint another girl as his secretary and had in mind to ask for Louise Lambert. She’d filled in for a few days when Frances had been off sick and they’d got on well together, but he was happy to do what Millie Maynard wanted. He picked up the phone and spoke to Miss Franklin before she could come up with some idea of her own.

The more he saw of Millie, the more he liked her. She’d been friendly and sociable to him and had real guts and a quick brain, but she was trying to fight Sylvie’s battles as well as her own and she needed to think more before she responded to Marcus’s attacks.

Millie was an attractive woman but Sylvie was a real stunner. He’d watched her scribbling down her shorthand on the other side of his desk with her blond hair falling forward, half hiding her face. When he stopped dictating her head would come up and her big golden-brown eyes would look up, waiting for more.

She’d turned all the boys’ heads on the factory floor. They talked about her, why wouldn’t they? She was the boss’s daughter, or so they’d thought. Like everybody else in the firm, he found the recent gossip about the Maynard family totally fascinating. Knowing more had made him sympathetic towards Millie. The staff agreed she had a tough fight on her hands and were all on her side but Marcus was out to retaliate now. The general feeling was that he’d get her down in the end and she’d give up.

Millie didn’t look like a fighter, she was small and slight. He’d heard the men say Pete had doted on her and denied her nothing; she was generally popular and said to be a soft touch for anybody in trouble.

He liked Sylvie too, there was nothing the matter with her work, what she’d done for him was fine, but she was shy and not outgoing like her mother. What she needed was experience to give her more confidence. If she felt guilty about the part she’d played in Pete’s accident he could see that it would make her very vulnerable to Marcus’s jibes. He felt sorry for them both.

Andrew had had family troubles of his own and they’d left him feeling raw for years. He understood only too well how painful and upsetting they could be, he’d wanted to bite off people’s heads. He’d married Annabel three years before the war broke out and believed they were both very happy and had the sort of marriage that would last for ever.

He’d wanted a family, but once married Annabel had said, ‘Don’t let’s rush into responsibilities like that. Let’s have a good time while we’re young. I’m not ready for babies yet.’ She’d been twenty-six then. When his call-up papers came he didn’t want to join the Pay Corps, which was where many accountants ended up.

‘But the Pay Corps is the best place for you,’ Annabel insisted. ‘You’re a fool if you can’t see that. Look at Agnes’s husband, he volunteered and asked to serve in the Pay Corps.’ Andrew had known Malcolm well, they’d been work colleagues. ‘He’s doing his bit for the war effort, and they both know he’ll be safe. He’s stationed at Aldershot and unlikely to leave England. Agnes has found a cottage to rent nearby so she can see him when he’s off duty. They’re having a good time and they’re happy about it. Why can’t we do the same?’

Andrew had been younger than Agnes’s husband, and he’d aimed to be part of the fighting force though he didn’t achieve that. With hindsight, it had proved a big mistake. He should have done his best to stay with Annabel.

Shortly after he had completed his training in 1940, he’d received a posting to the Far East. Annabel had been envious, she’d always wanted to travel and now he was doing it without her. She accused him of abandoning her in war-torn Liverpool, and when the Germans started bombing the city she’d written angry letters describing her hurt.

Andrew was stationed at battalion headquarters in Singapore and put in charge of the battalion’s finances. That was hardly a full-time job and he was given additional duties, often the job of organising social events. He’d had a thoroughly good time of it and felt guilty that he’d left Annabel in greater danger than he supposed himself to be. He’d worried about her and her letters left him agonised.

All that changed after Pearl Harbor, when the Japanese entered the war and set out to capture all of South-East Asia. They advanced very quickly and rumours began to circulate that Singapore could fall, but it was the largest British base in the Far East and there were said to be 85,000 British and Australian troops stationed there, so it was hard to believe.

Andrew and his friend Graham Brown watched anxiously as the enemy advanced but assumed the generals in charge were making plans to hold so important a base. They could see large numbers of European civilians were leaving and the harbour had never been so busy. Women and children were packing large passenger liners to capacity. Australian freighters took the maximum number of passengers they could squeeze on board. People were even crowding on to the local native craft trading round other Asian ports.

More and more Pacific islands were falling to the Japanese. It began to look as though Singapore really was in danger. If the worst happened, the advice Andrew heard was that British soldiers would be treated as prisoners of war if they surrendered but gunned down if they tried to escape.

Over drinks in the mess, Andrew began discussing what they could do should Singapore fall, though nobody treated that seriously because they couldn’t believe it would happen. One glance at the map showed them that once captured it would be almost impossible to escape as virtually the only ways out of Singapore were by sea or air. There were other rumours about the enemy, that they were treating their prisoners with far more brutality than the Germans did, and ignoring the Geneva Convention. The consensus of opinion in the mess was that it might be wiser to avoid being caught.

The Japanese began bombing the city. They brought up big guns to add shells to the savage bombardment. Andrew and his friends drew money out of their bank accounts, collected together any small valuables they might exchange for necessities and packed a few basic essentials.

On 14 February 1942 the Japanese entered Singapore in a storm of gunfire. Out of the blue, the British and Australian forces suddenly surrendered, taking everybody by surprise. Large numbers of British troops surrendered and became prisoners. Others were rounded up by the Japanese, of whom some were taken prisoner but many were beaten and gunned down.

The next day, the 15th, was even worse. Law and order had completely broken down. The disaster they’d discussed over beer in the mess was now a reality. Andrew and his friend Graham shed their uniforms and raced for the harbour.

Ear-splitting bursts of gunfire close by and fires breaking out in many parts of the city meant that most of the ships had hurriedly put to sea to avoid danger. Andrew was afraid they were too late.

They spent that night sheltering in a warehouse, kept awake by gunfire and the ever present fear that the enemy would burst in and capture them. At two in the morning the door creaked open. They were wide awake in a moment but able to breathe again when Andrew recognised the newcomer as Sergeant Willis, a military policeman who had worked with him once or twice on crowd control for the social events he’d organised.

Andrew had found him a likeable fellow. He was a few years older, and a professional soldier who had seen more of the world. He discovered Willis spoke a little of the local Malay language. He had been a reassuring presence, and had become a good friend. Andrew pulled a ledger towards him and sighed. He needed to get on with the job instead of day-dreaming about the past.

Millie craved normal routine and a quiet life. She wanted to see her children happy and everyone pulling their weight in the business so that it grew in profitability.

Things were quieter because Simon and Kenny had gone back to school for the autumn term. Marcus and Nigel seemed to be keeping out of her way, for which she was grateful, and although James’s official retirement date wasn’t until the end of December, he only came to the office for a few hours once in a while.

Sylvie was not rushing to the lab to see her quite so often, which Millie thought was a sign she didn’t need as much support. Until Sylvie said, ‘I don’t like the way Denis hangs around when I come to talk to you. It’s as though he’s waiting to hear more gossip he can pass on to his friends.’

‘Sylvie! Denis isn’t like that. I thought you liked him.’

‘But he does spread what he hears in the lab. How else would my life story have got round the factory? Besides, he gives me funny looks.’

Millie tried to smile. ‘I think you’re imagining that.’

‘I’m not, Mum.’

At least Sylvie said she was pleased with her promotion and liked working for Andrew Worthington. She seemed happier now she’d moved out of the typing pool and into a room with three other secretaries. Things were settling down, and routine was more like it had been in Pete’s time. He had always held a party on Guy Fawkes’ night.

‘Can we do it this year,’ Kenny asked, ‘and ask all our friends round?’

Because they went to boarding school, the boys didn’t have many local friends. Kenny meant the family and all their friends, including many who worked for the firm. They’d always built a big bonfire in the garden and baked potatoes in their jackets in the embers. Millie wanted to keep up Pete’s traditions but couldn’t make up her mind whether it was a good idea or not. They’d had fireworks last year but Pete would not be here to let them off.

Nevertheless Simon and Kenny began collecting firewood and constructing a guy in the garden shed.

‘I’d like to ask Connie and Louise,’ Sylvie said. ‘They don’t have bonfires at home.’

Millie had heard that Louise’s brother was engaged to a girl working in sales, and had given up hope that Sylvie’s friendship with him would strengthen. She wanted her daughter to have more of a social life and that made her agree to have a little party, but she’d not intended to have all the staff until Albert Lancaster, who treated her more like a daughter than an employer, came to the lab one morning and said, ‘I’m making some fireworks, are you going to have the usual bash? If you are, I’ll bring them round and let them off in your place.’

‘You’ll have to take charge of any display of that sort,’ Millie said.

‘I know.’ He patted her shoulder. She felt inveigled into inviting much the same crowd as Pete had last year.

They’d only started having fireworks again to celebrate the return of peace. It would not have been wise to cause even minor explosions in wartime. Fireworks were virtually unobtainable in the shops, so they had to make their own, but Pete and other members of the staff were either chemists or saw themselves as amateur chemists. Their home-made fireworks tended to be more blast than visual display but were part of the present make-do-and-mend culture, and were better than nothing on bonfire night.

Millie worried for a long time about whether she would invite Marcus and his side of the family but felt compelled to, as they’d no doubt hear of the party in the office. James said he didn’t think he was well enough to stand about in the cold, but Marcus and Nigel accepted. Nigel said he would bring his wife.

‘I’m glad Nigel and Marcus are coming,’ Helen said. ‘They used to be good company. We had marvellous holidays with them at Hafod when we were young.’

‘Marcus was always in trouble,’ Valerie remembered.

‘Pete thought he was a little wild,’ Millie said. She gave thanks that potatoes were not rationed and at this time of the year were plentiful. Valerie organised the buying of them, the scrubbing and the hour or so baking in the kitchen oven before they went out to the embers of the bonfire. Experience had told them they wouldn’t bake through unless the kitchen oven played its part. Sylvie and Helen made toppings for them, begging scarce ingredients from whoever would part with them.

That morning, they went round the local butchers’ shops and cleared them out of unrationed sausages. Millie would have liked to make a green salad to complete the meal but the lettuce had all died in the garden after a week of frost. She made a large pan of mushy peas as she had last year.

Sylvie was looking forward to the party though she knew her mother was on edge, afraid some disaster would occur. That afternoon she helped Simon and Kenny sweep the garden paths free of leaves and twigs, and hang the coloured Chinese lanterns that Dad had bought before the war on the trees and fences.

The boys had been given a broken chair and they tied the guy they’d made on to it, and managed to get it to balance on top of the bonfire. Everything was ready and they were keeping their fingers crossed that it wouldn’t rain, because even a shower would mean more smoke than flames.

That evening Valerie and Roger were the first to arrive, and carried up their sleeping twins to Millie’s bed. Sylvie had made up the old cot in the nursery for Helen’s baby and wheeled it into her mother’s room, so they’d all be together.

Val and Helen told Millie they were taking charge of the kitchen and she needn’t worry about the food. Roger had brought the ingredients to make hot toddies and was making up two bowls of punch, mostly lemonade for the youngsters but with a little added strength for the older guests.

They had a lovely clear night for it, the sky sparkled with stars but it was very cold. Over the last week they’d been having hard frosts at night and it looked set to continue. Millie put extra chairs in the conservatory so that those who couldn’t face the cold could see what was going on. She was dithering about when she should light the bonfire but Eric went out and did it fifteen minutes before the guests began to arrive.

Soon they were streaming in and Millie was kept busy greeting them. Nigel and his wife swept in together with Marcus. Dando had run them down. Sylvie was introduced to Clarissa and thought she looked glamorous.

Millie had insisted on inviting Denis, though Sylvie had asked her not to. Sylvie wanted to avoid him; he was too ready to spread gossip. She was watching for Connie and Louise, they’d promised to bring more wood from their gardens and a packing case or two, but when they arrived Denis was suddenly at her side. Connie liked him and got him to help toss their wood up on the bonfire. ‘That’s a smashing guy you’ve got on top,’ he said.

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