Stay as Sweet as You Are

Title Page

Copyright Page

About the Author

Also by Joan Jonker

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Joan Jonker was born and bred in Liverpool. Her childhood was a time of love and laughter with her two sisters, a brother, a caring but gambling father and an indomitable mother who was always getting them out of scrapes. Then came the Second World War when she met and fell in love with her husband, Tony. For twenty-three years, Joan campaigned tirelessly on behalf of victims of violence, and it was during this time that she turned to writing fiction. Sadly, after a brave battle against illness, Joan died in February 2006. Her best-selling Liverpool sagas will continue to enthral readers throughout the world.

Joan Jonker’s previous novels, several of which feature the unforgettable duo Molly and Nellie, have won millions of adoring fans:

‘Wonderful . . . the characters are so real I feel I am there in Liverpool with them’ Athena Tooze, Brooklyn, New York

‘I enjoy your books for they bring back memories of my younger days’ Frances Hassett, Brixham, Devon

‘Thanks for all the good reads’ Phyllis Portock, Walsall

‘I love your books, Joan, they bring back such happy memories’ J. Mullett, Lancashire

‘I’m an ardent fan, Joan, an avid reader of your books. As an old Liverpudlian, I appreciate the humour. Thank you for so many happy hours’ Mrs L. Broomhead, Liverpool

I dedicate this book to the many readers who have written to say how much they enjoy my books. I appreciate your letters, and hope my characters find favour with you.

Lucy Mellor is the heroine of this story, and I think you’ll love her. But leave room in your heart for the other larger-than-life characters who will have you reaching for your hankies. There is a baddie, and you’ll meet her soon enough.

Happy reading!

The flickering flame from the streetlamp cast an eerie glow over the face of the young girl huddled on the step of the two-up two-down terrace house. Her elbows were resting on her drawn-up knees and her two hands cupped her dirty, tear-stained face. Her eyes kept darting up and down the silent street as though anxious for the sight of someone, and occasionally her head would turn to look back through the open front door and into the darkness of the house.

Lucy Mellor let out a long sigh. She was in for a hiding now, no matter what she did. Her mam would say she should have taken herself off to bed while it was still light, instead of staying up until this time. But when she’d gone out at half-past seven, her mam had said she’d only be out for half an hour so Lucy had stayed up waiting for her. Then it had started to get dark and she was afraid to go upstairs with no one in the house. She had thought about striking a match and lighting the gas-light, but her dad had warned her about standing on a chair striking a match. She was small for her eleven years and he said it was too dangerous. And now, with the house in pitch darkness she was too afraid to go inside, never mind climbing the stairs to her bedroom.

She heard a door close nearby and Lucy quickly swivelled her legs around into the hall, hoping whoever it was would pass without seeing her. She was in enough trouble without the neighbours knowing she’d been left alone until this time of night. They wouldn’t think twice about having a go at her
mam; they were always telling Ruby Mellor that she wasn’t fit to be a mother. Then the girl heard the slow slithering footsteps and knew it was old Mrs McBride who lived three doors away. She’d be on her way to the corner pub for her nightly half-pint of stout. That meant it must be nearly ten o’clock because the old woman never went until just on closing-time.

Lucy held her breath, hoping their neighbour would pass without glancing in the doorway, but the old woman had sharp eyesight.

‘Is that you, queen? What on earth are yer doing sitting there at this time? Yer should have been in bed hours ago.’ There was surprise in Aggie McBride’s voice, and her eyes narrowed when she noticed the house was in darkness. ‘Are yer all on yer own, queen? Where’s that mother of yours got to?’

‘She’s only gone out for half an hour, Mrs Aggie – I’m waiting for her.’ Lucy was used to making excuses for her mother, she was doing it all the time. ‘She’ll be here any minute now.’

Aggie huffed. This girl had the face of an angel, with thick dark curly hair framing her heart-shaped face, and green eyes as big as saucers. She was a daughter any mother would be proud of, but not Ruby Mellor. She was too fond of herself, out for a good time and to hell with everyone else. All the neighbours had her taped and not one had a good word for her. She treated her daughter like a skivvy, making her do housework, shopping and even sending her scrounging to the neighbours if she ran short of anything. But she’d gone too far tonight, leaving a child in a dark house on her own; she deserved horse-whipping. ‘Would yer like me to come in and light the gas for yer, queen? Then yer could get yerself off to bed before she comes in.’

If Lucy had been frightened before, she was now terrified. ‘No, I’ll be all right, Mrs Aggie, honest. Me mam will be here any minute now, yer’ll see.’ There was a sob in the girl’s throat.
‘Yer won’t say anything to her, will yer, Mrs Aggie? Please?’

Aggie’s temper was rising. How she’d love to give Ruby Mellor a piece of her mind. But if she did, Lucy would be the one to suffer. ‘I’ll not say a dickie-bird, queen, I promise. Anyway, yer dad will be finishing his two-to-ten shift any minute, so if yer mam knows what’s good for her, she’ll make sure she’s home by then. If he finds you still up, and nothing ready for him to eat, then the sparks will fly.’ Wrapping the knitted shawl across her arms, Aggie managed to hide the jug she was taking to the pub for her half-pint of stout. Not that she needed to hide it, everyone in the neighbourhood knew Aggie and her drinking habits. ‘I’ll be on me way, queen, before Alec puts the towels on and I miss me nightly dose of medicine. And that would be a fate worse than death.’ She began to shuffle away. ‘I hope ye’re not here when I come back, Lucy, ’cos if yer are I’m going to sit with yer and wait for that mother of yours.’

‘I won’t be, Mrs Aggie,’ Lucy said, willing the old lady to move away so she could think of what to do. She had two choices. She could brave the dark and run up to bed, or she could brave her mother’s anger. It wasn’t often that Lucy rebelled against her life, but right now she was asking herself why
she
should be the one to be afraid. She hadn’t done anything wrong. Her mam was in the wrong, she had no right to stay out all this time.

Lucy sighed. She knew she’d get a hiding when her mam came in. Never a day passed without her feeling the force of her mother’s hands. And yet she never did anything to deserve it. She never answered back or gave cheek, never even looked sideways. But it didn’t take much to send her mother into a temper, and she was always the whipping boy. It wasn’t so bad when her dad was in; her mother wouldn’t dare hit her in his presence. But he worked three shifts and she didn’t see much of him. If he wasn’t at work he was in bed. And she’d been well warned what would happen to her if she went running to him telling tales.

Ruby Mellor was gasping for breath as she ran up the street. She’d cut it fine tonight, and she’d be lucky if she got home in time to have Bob’s bacon sizzling in the frying pan when he came back from work. She should never have listened to the friends she’d been drinking with when they coaxed her to stay a bit longer. But she’d been flattered by the attention of Wally Brown, who kept paying her compliments and keeping her glass filled. He was a handsome man in his thirties, a bachelor who was fond of the ladies. And Ruby lapped it up, telling herself another five minutes wouldn’t do any harm. Well, she now understood that five minutes could make all the difference. If Bob got home before her there’d be hell to pay.

She reached into her coat pocket for the door key and her hand was outstretched when she realised the door was open and Lucy was standing on the step. ‘What the bleedin’ hell are you doing still up? Get in that house, quick.’ Pushing past her daughter she ran into the living room and felt on the mantelpiece for a box of matches. She struck one, held it to the gas mantel and the room flooded with light. Then she spun around. ‘What the hell d’yer think ye’re playing at, yer little faggot? Why aren’t yer in bed?’

Lucy dropped her eyes. ‘Yer said yer were only going out for half an hour, and I waited for yer. Then it got dark and I was frightened to be in the house on me own.’

Ruby swung her arm out and her open palm caught Lucy on the side of the face, sending the girl reeling back. ‘Frightened, were yer? Well, I’ll give yer something to be frightened about, yer little faggot.’