The Girl From Seaforth Sands (46 page)

Pulling up the hood of his duffle-coat and pushing both hands deep into his pockets, he headed away from Seaforth towards the city and the docks.

Becky came down just after the boys did and wailed plaintively when she saw the empty bread and margarine plate, and realised that her mother had either used all the porridge or not made any that morning. ‘Why didn’t you wake me, fellers?’ she whined, taking her place at the table. ‘Oh, you are mean – as mean as Amy and Minnie. They woke me up and made me all cold when they gorrout of bed, but they never thought to tell me I were goin’ to miss me breakfast.’

Gus leaned across the table and ruffled her silky blonde hair and Suzie, crossing the kitchen behind her daughter, began to cut more slices off the loaf. ‘Don’t worry, chuck, there’s plenty for everyone,’ she said breezily. ‘The girls didn’t have any breakfast at all, you know. They were so late they simply ran straight out the door and off to the tram stop.’

‘Oh!’ Becky said, clapping a hand to her mouth. ‘I meant to see Amy before she went off but I dare say . . .’ She jumped off her seat and went over to the mantel, peering up as if to discover what time it was. Then, with a sigh of satisfaction, she returned to her place at the table. ‘It’s awright,’ she said rather obscurely. ‘Can I have a cup of milk now, Mam?’

On 29 December Ella returned to Huskisson Street – but she was a different Ella from the one who had gone off to Manchester scarcely knowing how she would manage to spend the whole week in the company of Philip’s grand family. She bounced into the room at eight o’clock that evening, to find her three friends making Welsh Rarebit and discussing what they should do for the New Year.

Ella came across the room in a series of twirls, threw her Gladstone bag on to her chair
and advanced towards her friends, a hand dramatically held out to display her new possession – a sparkling diamond and sapphire ring encircling the third finger of her left hand. ‘Philip and I are engaged,’ she said rather needlessly, as the girls clustered round, admiring the ring. ‘Oh, girls, it was ever so romantic – he asked me to marry him on Christmas morning after church, when he had taken me for a walk in the Square Gardens. There was snow on the flowerbeds and long icicles hanging from the trees overhead, but the sun was shining and the sky was blue and I was – am – the happiest, luckiest girl in the world.’

‘I thought you’d probably come back engaged,’ Amy said complacently, giving her friend a hug. ‘When will you be getting married, queen? Where will you live, you and Philip? Don’t say Manchester! I couldn’t bear to lose you – oh, it will be awful at the Adelphi without me best pal.’

Ella laughed, but shook her head at her friend. ‘What makes you think I’ll move anywhere?’ she enquired mischievously. ‘Being engaged isn’t the same as getting married, you know. Why, people wait two or three years sometimes, before they change their single state.’

‘Yes, but you aren’t going to,’ Minnie observed shrewdly, eyeing her friend’s flushed and excited countenance. ‘It isn’t as if young Philip’s short of a bob or two, so there’ll be no nonsense about saving up for a nice little house somewhere. I reckon you’ll have a June wedding, probably from a very smart church. Can the three of us be bridesmaids?’

‘She can’t have me as a bridesmaid, because it isn’t done to outshine the bride and I would,’ Amy said grandly, gently easing the ring off Ella’s finger and
placing it upon her own. ‘Does it suit me, girls? Because I’m thinking of getting married meself . . . only I haven’t told the lucky fella yet because I haven’t met him.’

‘Don’t believe a word she says, girls,’ Minnie advised them. ‘Why, she were given the most beautiful gift by one of the fellers! You could see he were keen on her and all over Christmas they were carrying on with . . .’

‘
I
was?’ Amy squeaked, diving at Minnie and clapping a hand across the older girl’s mouth. ‘Why, my brother Gus took such a fancy to our Min that he’s been round here most evenings, pestering the life out of her to go to the theatre or to a dance, or just to go back to Seaforth for supper with him. If that isn’t a sign of serious intentions I don’t know what is.’

The rest of that evening passed, as Amy had guessed it would, with the girls hearing all about Ella’s wonderful Christmas holiday and the other three recounting their own far less glamorous adventures. What Amy did not say – could not say – was how puzzled and upset she had been when Gus had arrived on their doorstep, either alone or accompanied only by Albert. She had been certain that Paddy would come to see her as soon as he was able to do so, but this had not happened. She had not liked to question Gus or Albert too closely about the third member of the fishing boat’s crew and they had clearly not felt it incumbent upon them to comment on Paddy’s absence. But I’ll find out just what is happening when I go home for New Year, Amy told herself. I’ve never thought of Paddy as shy, but perhaps he is when it comes to girls. Maybe
the thought of visiting the four of us, after how things have been in the past, simply scared him off.

But in her heart she did not believe it. Paddy had never been shy, so there must be some other reason for his not visiting her and, when New Year arrived and it was possible for her to catch a tram and go home, she discovered the reason almost as soon as she walked into the house.

The family were eating their supper around the kitchen table. Charlie and his wife had returned to the Midlands long since, but Gus, Albert, Bill, Suzie and Becky were all eating fish and fried potatoes, and greeted her cheerfully as she entered the room.

‘Nice to see you, queen,’ Bill said breezily. He turned to his wife. ‘Is there any fish left, love? You can soon fry a few more spuds, ’cos there were a big bowl of cold ’uns in the fish scullery.’

There was a bustle as Suzie went over to the fire and Amy took off her outdoor things and hung them on the back of the door noticing, almost without realising it, that Paddy’s duffle, muffler and seaboots were missing. ‘Paddy’s late,’ she remarked, taking a seat at the table. ‘Where’s he gone?’

There was moment of embarrassed silence and then Bill said uneasily, ‘Well, he’s on his way to South America, I think he said. Didn’t you know, queen? The day after Boxing Day he come in here and said he’d got a yearning for foreign parts and meant to be off as soon as he could find a lad to take his place on the shrimping boat, which I’m bound to say he did and young Ben is as likely a lad as you’ll find in all Seaforth. Still, that’s beside the point. Paddy’s berthed as an ordinary seaman aboard the SS
Frederica
; he left us a letter tellin’ us so. I thought he’d told you. The
Frederica
is one of them coasters
what go up and down the Americas for six months at a time, buying and selling, you might say. I reckon he’ll see a deal of strange places afore we set eyes on him again.’

On New Year’s Day, Amy sat in the office of the big hotel, typing away at her machine, but though she seemed to be concentrating on her work her mind was far from the task in hand. The previous evening, once she had got over the first shock of Paddy’s abrupt departure, she had gone up to her room, stripped the bed and searched every inch of it. Suzie had not changed the bedding so there was no fear that the necklace might have got into the washing process and by the look of it, Amy thought disapprovingly, her stepmother had not brushed the linoleum nor shaken out the clothing which hung on hooks behind a piece of flowered curtain. But no matter how diligently she searched, the necklace was not to be found.

Once she was certain it was not in the room, Amy had descended the stairs, meeting Becky who was on her way up to fetch her sister down. ‘It’s near on time to start the first footing, Amy,’ Becky had said excitedly. ‘The neighbours are here and Mr Bulstrode has brought a barrel of punch; he says it ain’t strong, so we can all have a drink.’

She took Amy’s hand and turned to descend the stairs with her, but Amy drew her to a halt. ‘Becky, do you remember the necklace Paddy gave me at Christmas? I wore it all Christmas Day but on Boxing Day I forgot. I had breakfast without it and then went upstairs to get it. Only it wasn’t on the washstand, where I thought I’d left it. I didn’t think of it any more until I was on the tram, heading for
Lime Street, but since I was sure it was somewhere in the house, I didn’t worry too much. I thought it might have come off in the bed only I’ve searched the whole room and there’s no sign of it. I suppose you haven’t seen it, queen?’

‘I saw it on Christmas Day,’ Becky said immediately. ‘Do you mind that you’ve lost it, Amy? Only you’ve always said you didn’t like Paddy and Etty told Annie and Annie told me that you were goin’ to chuck it away as soon as you got home.’

‘Whatever made Etty . . .?’ Amy stopped short, remembering her hasty words to Ruthie on Christmas morning. She felt the heat rush to her cheeks and said defensively, ‘Folks say things they don’t mean sometimes, Becky. They say them and then they’re sorry for them. I . . . I’m afraid it might hurt Paddy’s feelings to know that I’ve lost it – the necklace I mean. Not that he does know – does he?’

‘I dunno,’ Becky said, tugging Amy down the rest of the flight. ‘Hurry up, Amy, Mam’s made treacle tart to go with the punch when midnight comes, and Dad’s hottin’ up the poker and he says I can push it into the punch to make all the steam and sizzle.’

The rest of the evening had passed in a blur for Amy. She could not help wondering whether the loss of the necklace and Paddy’s sudden departure were connected in some way. Since she was sure that she had lost it in the bedroom, she did not see how Paddy could possible realise that she no longer had it. However, just in case some other member of the family might have been involved, she waited until all the excitement of welcoming in the New Year was over and then asked Suzie, Bill, Gus and Albert bluntly whether they had seen her necklace.

No one had, but Amy thought that Suzie gave her a rather strange look and presently, when they were clearing up and the men had gone to bed, Amy asked Suzie why she thought Paddy had suddenly decided to go to sea.

She half expected a snubbing reply, but instead Suzie dried her hands on a tea towel, sat herself down on a kitchen chair and gave the matter her full attention. ‘I dunno for sure, queen,’ she said slowly. ‘In fact, I hoped you’d be able to tell us. Did you quarrel? Because I won’t deny it seemed to me that Paddy was sweet on you and had been for a while, only of course you didn’t feel the same about him. After he’d give you the necklace he were all lit up, like, happier than he’s been – oh, for months, probably ever since Gran died. Then on Boxing Day the pair of you had your heads together, chattering away like magpies and laughing fit to bust, and Bill and I, I don’t deny, we thought the old feud betwixt the two of you was over and a bleedin’ good job too. We’ve wondered what could possibly have gone awry after that, because the day you left to go back to Huskisson Street Paddy didn’t have a civil word for anyone. He went out without finishing his breakfast, and when he came home he just told us he’d signed on aboard the SS
Frederica
and wouldn’t be home again for six months.’

She glanced across at Amy and suddenly Amy realised that it was a look quite without reservation; Suzie was as puzzled as Amy herself over Paddy’s defection and was certainly not blaming Amy for one iota of it. Amy found herself warming to the older woman, now that they shared a common anxiety and affection for Paddy. She said musingly, ‘I wondered if he thought I didn’t value the necklace. I wondered if . . . if someone might have found it and handed it to him, telling him it meant I didn’t value him either.’

Suzie gave a little cry and got to her feet. Clasping both Amy’s hands in hers, she said roundly, ‘There ain’t one of us would do such a mean thing, not to you nor to our Paddy. I know I’ve been against you in the past – I were jealous of you, truth to tell – but I’ve learned your value now, queen, and I’d be a happy woman if I thought you and our Paddy might make a go of it. He went off very unhappy, there’s no doubt of that, but he’ll be home again and the two of you can talk it out face to face. He’s goin’ to write home, he said he would and Paddy’s a man of his word, so there’s no knowin’ – you might get a letter an’ all, explaining things.’ She gave Amy’s hands an encouraging little shake, then leaned forward and kissed her cheek. ‘Cheer up, queen!’ she said. There’s worse things happen at sea. Oh, Gawd, that ain’t what I meant to say at all – what I meant to say was it’ll all come out in the wash. Now you go up to bed, because you’ve got a full day tomorrow.’

So now, Amy sat at her typewriter, working away automatically and trying to tell herself that she would not worry over Paddy. As soon as they had an address for him she would write to him herself and perhaps then he would write back and she could discover the reason for his flight. Until then she would just have to learn to live without him – something which she had done happily enough for a good many years.

Ella’s wedding took place in June, as her friend had prophesied, and Minnie, Ruthie, Laura and Amy were all bridesmaids. Mrs Grimshaw had elegant
gowns made for them in turquoise silk with matching accessories and hats of cream straw, lavishly decorated with artificial flowers. Ella looked radiant in a white gown with a long train; her veil held in place by a coronet of lilies of the valley, and her bouquet contained the same flowers, as well as the more traditional white roses and orange blossom.

Amy thoroughly enjoyed the wedding and the reception, which was held at the Adelphi, so that Ella’s colleagues as well as her friends might enjoy the party. The only sadness Amy felt was for the loss of her friend, for Ella was to leave work and become a full-time housewife in a new house on the Wirral, which Philip’s parents had bought for them as a wedding present.

Ella had tried at first to say that she wanted to continue working, but Philip had dealt with this in a masterly fashion. He had assured her that if time hung heavy on her hands or she was unhappy, she might take another job, either in the city of Liverpool or in one of the villages nearby, but first he maintained that she should give their home and marriage a chance.