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Authors: Lyn Andrews

Tags: #Fiction, #Sagas

Liverpool Angels (5 page)

BOOK: Liverpool Angels
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Liverpool, 1907

‘E
ddie, go and see if our Alice and Mae are ready,’ Maggie instructed her son as she adjusted her hat in front of the mirror in the small parlour. ‘I’ll have Agnes and the family over here in a minute and I can hear your Uncle John mooching around in the kitchen, a sure sign he’s getting impatient.’ Today they were going out as a family – which was in itself a rarity – but this was a very special day indeed.

Rays of strong August sunlight filtered through the cotton lace curtains that now adorned her windows, backed by a pair of dark blue chenille drapes – the bleached sacking had long gone. The room was well furnished, there was a rug on the floor and her two treasured Staffordshire dogs reposed on the mantelpiece either side of the clock. She smiled at her reflection. She was still quite a good-looking woman, she thought, although she’d grown plumper and was now approaching middle age. The years had been kind to her: there were no grey hairs amongst the dark ones, no deep lines of anxiety etched on her face, but then, apart from the welfare of the children and that of her brother, she had few worries. Agnes had been right all those years ago when she’d said she was better off without Billy. She barely gave him a thought these days.

She certainly didn’t have to worry about relying on him for anything any more. From tiny beginnings her business had grown. She’d quickly had a steady stream of customers seeking loans when the word had got around, and they did not complain or grumble too much about the rate of interest she charged; desperate times needed desperate remedies and they expected no charity. As she always said, she hoped she was fair. They knew her; they knew she had not had an easy life and that every penny was hard come by, and that she’d sold some of her small number of possessions, including her wedding ring, to get started. She had never told anyone that it had been Isaac Ziegler who had lent her the initial sum, apart from Agnes whom she trusted implicitly, and she’d paid off Isaac’s loan with John’s help and the sale of a few items to a local pawnbroker.

Her expression hardened a little. There had been one unpleasant incident at the beginning when someone in the same line of business had violently objected to her rates and had come to the house and threatened her, but it had come to nothing. She’d heard that he’d fallen foul of a group of ruffians in a back alley one night although very few people, including herself, believed that. As he’d left the house on that particular night John Strickland’s expression had spoken volumes.

Their standard of living had greatly improved although she didn’t indulge in ostentation; ever thrifty, she was saving for what she termed ‘the kids’ futures’. Eddie was a bright lad and she wanted him to go to the Mechanics Institute when he left school to learn a proper trade, which would stand him in good stead for the rest of his life.

Yes, she would be eternally grateful to Isaac and she still made sure that one of the girls went down to his house each Saturday morning and she wouldn’t hear of him paying them. She smiled. Even Isaac and his son and daughter-in-law were going out today.

She raised her eyes to the ceiling as Eddie bawled up the stairs demanding to know if his sister and his cousin were going to keep them all waiting much longer. ‘I told you to go and
see
, not bawl up the stairs like a barrow boy! You’ll be the death of me, Eddie McEvoy. Go into the kitchen and tell your Uncle John that we’re ready to go, here’s Agnes now.’ She shoved eleven-year-old Eddie towards the kitchen as Agnes and Bertie, accompanied by their children, arrived on the doorstep.

‘It’s hot out there already – it will be sweltering by noon! Mam’s decided that she’s not up to coming, she’ll have a rest and keep her eye on the shop, not that there’ll be many customers today. By, that colour does suit you, Maggie,’ Agnes announced, nodding approvingly at her friend’s burgundy skirt, which finished just on the ankle, showing neat, high, black buttoned boots. The white cotton blouse, its high neck and leg-o’-mutton sleeves intricately pintucked and trimmed with burgundy ribbon, looked crisp and smart. The small cameo brooch Maggie had pinned to the neck set it off to perfection and her wide-brimmed hat, fashionably trimmed with a big artificial flower, completed the outfit.

‘You look very smart yourself, Agnes, luv. In fact, you
all
do,’ she said firmly, looking pointedly at the twins whose faces showed signs of recent scrubbing, their hair plastered down into neatness with a wet comb. They looked every bit as uncomfortable as Eddie in their Sunday suits, complete with starched Eton collars, even though it was only Saturday. Eddie had been complaining all morning that the collar was choking him but she’d deliberately ignored him.

‘Well, now, don’t you two look like a pair of angels!’ Agnes exclaimed as nine-year-old Mae and her eight-year-old cousin Alice finally came downstairs.

Maggie beamed at them both, feeling a sense of pride welling up in her. Mae had grown into a lovely, fair-haired, blue-eyed miniature of her mother, and her own daughter Alice, born long after Billy’s disappearance, had his dark curly hair, brown eyes and vivacity, although thankfully she had very few of his other traits. Both girls wore their hair long and loose, Alice’s falling in thick ringlets over her shoulders, while Mae’s looked like a curtain of pale silk cascading down her back, almost to her waist. They both wore straw boater hats and summer dresses of pale blue and white striped cotton with starched white petticoats beneath. Their buttoned buckskin boots had been whitened with Blanco that morning by John, who had remarked that he doubted they’d stay that colour for very long when they got in amongst the crowds.

Eddie, accompanied by his uncle, in his good suit and wearing a clean shirt and starched collar and a tie, joined them.

‘Do I look pretty, Da?’ Mae asked, tugging at his sleeve, excitement dancing in her eyes.

John smiled fondly down at her. She was the light of his life, his reason for living and he was so proud of her. She had the best he could afford and he was saving hard so she could go to learn to use one of those newfangled typewriting machines when she left school. His Mae wasn’t destined for a factory or a shop. No, she would work in an office where she would mix with a better class of person and hopefully marry well. It had been Maggie’s idea, of course; she had determined that Alice would also learn and she too was saving hard for the fees.

‘Do I look pretty too, Uncle John?’ Alice begged. ‘Do I?’

John grinned at them both. ‘You both look as pretty as pictures! And so do you, Lucy,’ he added, noting the petulant expression on the face of Agnes’s five-year-old daughter, who he knew was the bane of her brothers’ lives.

‘Right then, we’d better get a move on or we’ll not get a decent place to see everything from, never mind a seat in the grandstand,’ Maggie announced, ushering her family towards the door.

It seemed as though the entire population of the city was on the move towards Wavertree Park, John thought as they mingled with the crowds thronging the city streets, and by every conceivable means of transport. Trams, omnibuses, motor cars, bicycles, horse, pony, dog carts, or on foot, but then it wasn’t every day that the City of Liverpool celebrated being seven hundred years old.

‘It’s hard to think that back when King John granted the city its charter it was just a little place with a castle and a few houses by a muddy pool on the river,’ Bertie Mercer commented – he’d been reading up on it all at the library. ‘The Liverpool Pageant’ it was being called and there were to be all kinds of balls and parties for the civic dignitaries as well as events for ordinary citizens such as themselves. Nothing like it had ever happened before.

‘It said in the newspaper that there’s going to be a display with floats depicting all the centuries and the important events with people dressed up in costumes,’ Maggie added. ‘I’m really looking forward to seeing them.’

‘I’m not half glad we weren’t chosen to do all those Swedish exercise things! Having to get dressed up in that daft outfit and you’d be worn out and sweating like a pig in this sun,’ young Jimmy muttered thankfully to Eddie.

Agnes heard him and cuffed him smartly. ‘Stop showing us all up, saying things like that! It might have done the three of you lads some good.’ Thousands of schoolchildren from all over the city had been drilled for weeks in what was going to be a spectacle of ‘physical excellence’ as they demonstrated – in unison, it was sincerely hoped – a series of Swedish exercises. Only a handful had been chosen from St George’s and neither Harry, Jimmy nor Eddie had been amongst them, much to their relief.

‘When we’ve seen all these “float” things, can we go down to the river, Mam, to see the ships?’ Eddie asked. Anchored in the Mersey and stretching five miles from the pier at New Brighton to the training ship
Conway
were the fourteen battleships and three cruisers of the Channel Fleet, which had arrived to celebrate the Liverpool Pageant and Eddie viewed these as a far more interesting spectacle than a parade of floats depicting history.

‘I thought we’d make our way towards Stanley Park for the fireworks. It will get very packed later on,’ Maggie replied.

‘But they’re not until Monday night, Mam!’ Eddie protested. He wanted to see the battleships and he’d heard that all kinds of small boats would be on the river, ready to take sightseers for a closer view.

‘He’s right, Maggie. It definitely said in the paper the fireworks are on Monday night. I’ll miss them, I’m afraid,’ John added a little regretfully, for he was sailing on Monday morning. ‘I suggest that Bertie and I take the lads down to the waterfront to see the fleet after the displays are over and you, Agnes and the girls go back home. You don’t want to be standing in this heat all day and it will take a while to get back home because of the crowds.’ He was looking forward to seeing the ships of the fleet himself, all of which were bigger than the
Campania
. Still, he wouldn’t be making many more trips on her, he mused. She was an old ship now and Cunard’s latest and biggest ship had been launched on the Clyde in June and he’d been notified that he’d been transferred and was to sail on the new ship’s maiden voyage from Liverpool early next month.

‘He’s got a point, Maggie,’ Agnes agreed; already she could feel beads of perspiration forming on her forehead and was glad of the shade afforded by the brim of her hat. ‘We can’t go hours without a cup of tea and a bite to eat, we’d all be fainting and you’d never get served in a café – those that will be open, and I bet there won’t be many.’

‘What about you two and the lads? Won’t you be parched?’ Maggie asked her brother.

‘I’m sure Bertie and I can manage to find the coppers for a bottle of ginger beer for us all,’ John replied, winking at Agnes’s husband, who grinned back, looking forward to spending an hour with the lads on the waterfront and maybe even taking a trip on a sightseeing boat. It wasn’t every day you got to see the ships of the finest Navy in the world at close hand.

When they at last reached the park it was already very crowded but all the children were hugely excited to see the funfair and the stalls selling sweets and ice cream that had been set up in one area, well away from the grandstand where the main events would take place.

‘Mam, can we have an ice cream, please? It’s so hot!’ Alice begged.

‘Mam, can Jimmy, Harry and me have a go on that stall over there! They’ve got real rifles to shoot and you can win prizes!’ Eddie begged, his eyes wide with excitement. Mae and the Mercer twins added their pleas for ice cream and turns on the various rides.

‘Would you just listen to them, Agnes! Do they think we’re made of money? You bring them on a day out and they’re not satisfied with that!’ Maggie protested.

John laughed as he exchanged glances with Bertie. ‘Oh, go on, Maggie. It’s a special occasion and I don’t mind giving them a few pence to spend on treats. Why don’t you and Agnes go and see if you can get us seats in the grandstand?’

‘And leave this lot to their own devices and with money to spend? For a start they’ll get lost in this crowd and we’ll never find them, and I dread to think what damage our Eddie could do with a rifle,’ Maggie shuddered.

‘What if Bertie and I stayed with them, kept our eye on them? We’ll come and find you when they’ve spent up, which won’t be long as they’re only getting pennies,’ John offered.

Maggie looked enquiringly at Agnes and then nodded. ‘All right, as long as you don’t mind and you don’t let them run riot. I doubt we’ll get seats though so we’d better pick a spot to meet up,’ she said, looking across to the already packed raised grandstand on the other side of the park.

‘How about over there by the bandstand?’ John suggested, and Agnes and his sister agreed.

‘Right, what do you want to do first? Rides or ice cream?’ John asked the over-excited little group.

‘We want a go on that rifle range!’ Eddie and Jimmy instantly replied in unison.

‘Da, can we go on that ride with the painted horses?’ Mae pleaded and Alice nodded enthusiastically.

‘I wouldn’t mind going on that too,’ Harry added. He was quieter than his twin and wasn’t at all sure that he wanted to try the rifle range; it looked a bit dangerous. But the ride with the horses was going round really quite fast too.

BOOK: Liverpool Angels
6.52Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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