Liverpool Annie (19 page)

On a grey, drizzly Good Friday morning, Marie Harrison left Liverpool for London. She had over six hundred pounds in her bank account. A room was waiting for her in a house with four other budding actresses.

After Mass, Annie went with her sister to Lime Street Station. Marie found a seat, then leaned out of the window.

'Look after yourself, Marie,' Annie pleaded. She had never felt so sad and was doing her utmost not to cry. It was a different feeling altogether from when Mam and Dad had died. The sight of Marie's happy, hopeful face tugged at her heart-strings. She prayed her sister wouldn't be hurt, wouldn't be lonely, that she'd quickly be successful.

'You look after yourself too, sis. Give that Jeremy creature a kick in the groin next time he tries something.'

'I will, don't worry.' Annie tried to laugh. The train began to move and she ran along the platform holding onto her sister's hand, 'Tara, Marie. Tara.'

'Goodbye, Annie. I'll write soon, I promise,'

Annie watched the dark-haired figure waving from the window and waved frantically back until the train curled round a bend and Marie could no longer be seen.

The centre of Liverpool was deserted on Good Friday. She hurried through the empty, wet streets, trying to hold back the tears. It wasn't until she arrived home that she felt able to let them flow. She cried for ages. Her sister was the only flesh and blood she had left. She remembered cuddling Marie the day they moved to Orlando Street, recalled her anguished face when they'd discussed what to do about the baby, and how upset she'd been when it had been taken away. Even now, all these years later, it still seemed unbearably sad; a thirteen-year-old girl longing for a baby, longing for someone to love.

Later, when the tears had finally stopped, she had a long soak in the brown-streaked bath, using the last of the pine bubble bath she'd got for Christmas. It seemed a more cheerful thing to do than make the Stations of the Cross, which she usually did on Good Fridays. She felt better when she emerged with crinkly skin and a face pack hardened to concrete.

It was nearly five o'clock. At half seven she was meeting Sylvia off the train at Exchange Station. They'd not made up their minds what to do, but in case they decided to go dancing, Annie used her best deodorant, put on a set of fresh underwear, her new green dress with the pleated skirt that she'd been saving for a special occasion, and her black ballerina shoes with buckles on the toes. She put her hair up for a change. The style looked rather flattering as little curls escaped from the enamelled slide onto her neck.

The whole operation made her feel even better. After all, it was unreasonable to be unhappy when her sister was embarking on a great adventure. As soon as Marie had settled in, Annie was going to stay for the weekend. She decided to make a list of which clothes to take. As she wrote, a weak sun appeared and the lounge was flooded with pale yellow light. By the time the list was

finished, Annie was her old self again, and began to look forward to the evening ahead. She and Sylvia always ended up having a good time and a good laugh.

A pleasant smell seeped up through the floorboards from the flat below. The horrible man with the big buck teeth who lived there was making curry for his tea. The smell made her feel hungry and she realised she'd been too upset to have dinner. She'd just slid two slices of bread under the grill and put half a tin of beans in a pan to heat, when she heard light footsteps running up the stairs.

For a moment, her heart leapt at the thought it might be Marie who'd caught the same train back, having decided to stay in Liverpool after all. There wasn't time to decide whether this was good or bad before there was a knock on the door and Sylvia shouted, 'It's me.'

'You're miles early.' Annie felt annoyed when she saw Sylvia was wearing her black slacks and jumper, which meant a dance was out of the question. 'Here's me, dressed up like a dog's dinner.'

Sylvia walked into the room and sat down without a word.

'What's wrong?' Annie frowned.

'The most awful thing has happened,' Sylvia replied in a small voice. 'I've brought a bombshell.' It was rare for Sylvia to sound so subdued. 'Cecy and Bruno have had the most terrible row. They followed each other round the Grand all afternoon, shouting and screaming.'

'Is that all!' Annie said, relieved. Cecy and Bruno rowed all the time, though she had to concede their fights were usually over quickly. She'd never known one last for more than half an hour, after which they usually made up with extravagant hugs and kisses.

'You don't understand, Annie.' Sylvia's blue eyes were frightened. 'Bruno's been having an affair and

Cecy's just found out. The woman's called Eve, a waitress who worked for us a short while last year.'

'An affair!' Annie was horrified. 'I don't believe it. Not Bruno!' Bruno Delgado epitomised everything true and honest in the world. He was perfect. She couldn't visualise him doing any wrong.

'The thing is, it isn't the first. He's had affairs before. He told Cecy all about them, confessed them one by one.'

Annie gaped. 'Did they know you were listening?'

Sylvia nodded bleakly. 'Every now and then one of them would say, "Keep your voice down, Sylvia will hear", and they'd be quiet for a while, then they'd get so mad, they'd start shouting all over again, sometimes in Italian, sometimes in English, as if they didn't care whether I heard or not.'

'Oh, Syl! Do you hate him?'

'I don't know. He said the oddest things. He said, "Everyone's entitled to a healthy sex life. I'm a normal man with normal needs. If you weren't so bloody religious, the situation wouldn't have arisen." '

Annie tried to make sense of this, but couldn't. 'What did he mean?'

'There's something burning,' Sylvia said.

Annie looked perplexed. 'I don't understand. What's religion and a healthy sex life got to do with burning?'

'I meant I can smell something burning.' Sylvia jumped to her feet. 'There's smoke coming from the kitchen.'

'Me beans on toast!'

The toast was cinders and the pan was ruined. The man with the buck teeth came stamping up to make sure Annie hadn't set the house on fire. He went away, disgusted, when she explained what had happened.

Sylvia opened the windows to let the smell out and Annie gave the cooker a superficial clean. She made a cup of tea to calm their nerves.

'That's a nice dress,' Sylvia said when they were sitting down again, 'Green's your best colour.'

'I got it from C & A. I thought we might have gone to a dance tonight. I prefer making me own frocks, but I can't manage pleats.'

'Your hair looks nice, too. It suits you up.'

Annie patted her curls. 'I was trying to cheer meself up. I felt dead miserable because our Marie had gone.'

'I forgot about Marie.' Sylvia made a face. 'She telephoned earlier. Cecy said to tell you she'd arrived safely.'

'There must be a phone in her new flat.'

A long silence followed. Sylvia stared into her cup. Annie didn't raise the subject of Cecy and Bruno until she was ready to talk again.

'They actually spoke about divorce, Annie,' Sylvia said suddenly. 'Least Bruno did. Cecy said she'd never divorce him. Never.'

'Oh, no!' Nothing was permanent. Nothing could be relied on to stay the same. Marie had gone, and now another part of her life was falling apart. She still didn't understand what had happened. Bruno had had an affair - affairs - but why, when he had always seemed so completely in love with Cecy.-* She said as much to her friend.

'He still loves her,' Sylvia explained carefully, 'he said so, but from what I could gather - and this is truly incredible, Annie - they haven't made love since I was born. Bruno yelled, "Do you think I'm made of stone.' Eighteen years, Cecy, eighteen years." You see, Cecy had an awful time with me and she was too frightened to have another baby. I think I told you that once.'

'But you can use things.'

'Apparently she won't. The Catholic Church forbids it.'

'Me Auntie Dot's every bit as religious as Cecy,'

Annie said, 'but she says that's a load of rubbish. It's all right for the Pope to lay down the law, but he hasn't got to look after the unwanted babies. Anyroad, there's something called the rhythm system . . .'

'It's not reliable. Even I know that.'

Annie sighed. 'Jaysus, Syl. It must have come as a terrible shock.'

To her surprise, Sylvia said thoughtfully, 'It did and it didn't. Over the years, I've had this funny feeling there was something wrong. Bruno used to look at Cecy with a strange expression on his face that I couldn't understand.' She smiled unexpectedly. 'I'm sick of talking about it. Let's go for a meal and the pictures. There's a new Alfred Hitchcock picture on at the Odeon, and I love all his films. Rear Window and Vertigo are two of my all-time favourites. It'll take our minds off things for a few hours.'

They went to a Chinese restaurant and had curried prawns and rice, not just because it was Good Friday and they couldn't eat meat, but because Annie had been longing for curry since the smell had drifted through the floorboards, though as she said to Sylvia over the tea that tasted like dishwater, 'I'll have to cut down on this sort of thing now that our Marie's not there to help with the rent.'

The new Hitchcock film was called Psycho. It was utterly terrifying, nothing like Rear Window or Vertigo. Annie kept her eyes shut most of the time, particularly during the last ten minutes.

'What happened?' she asked when the curtains thankfully closed and the stunned audience stood to leave. Instead of the usual buzz, everyone was strangely quiet.

'I've no idea. I didn't look,' Sylvia replied in a shaky voice. 'Thank God we haven't got a shower!'

A woman behind put her hand on Annie's arm and

she yelped in terror. 'What happened at the end?' she asked. 'I was scared to watch.'

'So was I,' said Annie.

Outside, Lime Street appeared dimly lit and had a gloomy, sinister air. Every man who passed looked Hke a potential murderer.

'Oh, Lord,' Annie groaned. 'I left all the windows open. Someone might have climbed in.'

'No-one's likely to climb in a fourth-floor window.'

Annie shivered. 'I'll be on me own tonight and that chap downstairs gives me the creeps. Have you noticed his eyes? The lids are heavy and they move dead slow, like a lizard.'

'Would you like me to stay?' offered Sylvia.

'Please, Syl. I'm petrified at the thought of going back by meself. I wish we'd never seen that picture. It took me mind off things all right. I'm scared bloody stiff!'

They looked for a telephone box so Sylvia could call the Grand. When she emerged, she gave Annie a sardonic smile. 'Cecy thinks I'm staying away because of the row.'

'Did you tell her the real reason?'

'No,' Sylvia said in a hard voice. 'She can think what she likes. If things get any worse, I shall leave home.'

'You've changed your tune. You were upset before.'

'I'm still upset, but it's no good crying over spilt milk, is it?'

The table was propped against the door, the bedroom doors were open and the beds had been moved so they could see each other across the lounge and communicate in case of emergency. Every light was switched on.

They sat up in bed and chatted about clothes, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Annie was

seriously considering making herself a plain black costume.

Sylvia looked surprised. 'I thought you were going to be hard up?'

'Once I've made the costume, I won't buy another thing,' Annie said virtuously, 'though I'd love a pair of those stiletto-heeled shoes.'

'They snap easily. I've had mine mended twice and Cecy complains about dents in the carpet. And don't get those winklepickers. A girl at college bought a pair. We thought she had deformed toes.'

After a while, Sylvia said she was tired and ready for sleep. Her blonde hair disappeared beneath the bedclothes. 'Goodnight, Annie.'

' 'Night, Syl. Things'll probably seem better in the morning.'

There was an answering grunt. Annie's head was buzzing and she had rarely felt so wide awake. She lay down reluctantly and tossed and turned for ages. The traffic outside gradually faded to the occasional car and she began to drift off, but woke up seconds later with a painful jump. Eventually, she fell asleep and dreamt a buck-toothed man with an enormous knife was butchering Marie in the bathroom, and the brown stains on the bath had turned brilliant red. Marie was screaming, but to Annie's horror, she found herself glued to the bed, paralysed, unable to do anything but listen to her sister's agonised cries. She woke up again, heart pounding, bathed in perspiration, conscious of the pungent smell of escaping gas, but afterwards realised the smell was no more real than the dream.

It was a terrible Easter weekend. They went dancing on Saturday, but their gloomy faces must have put off any would-be partners. Not a soul asked either to dance. They left in the interval, more miserable than when

they'd arrived. Sylvia telephoned an anxious Cecy to say she was spending another night with Annie.

The following morning they went to Mass, then caught the train to Southport, and had scarcely been there five minutes when the heavens opened and the rain poured down. As they sheltered in a doorway, Sylvia began to giggle. 'This has been the worst Easter of my life.'

'It's not over yet. We've got Monday to get through.'

'There'll probably be an earthquake.'

They laughed and the tension broke. They searched for a cafe and stumbled inside, drenched to the skin. Sylvia ordered a pot of tea, buttered scones and strawberry jam for four.

'I've led a charmed life up to now,' she said at one point. 'Bruno and Cecy have been magical parents. They always seemed superior to other people's. I'll just have to get used to the fact they're human like everybody else.'

It was still raining an hour later and there seemed little else to do but to return home. Sylvia thought it was about time she put in an appearance at the Grand, if only to change out of her wet clothes. They confessed they were sick of the sight of each other and wouldn't meet until the following weekend. Annie stayed on the train only as far as Marsh Lane Station. She was dying to see Auntie Dot.