Winnie of the Waterfront (15 page)

Winnie bit down on her lower lip uncertainly. She’d thought of nothing else since Sonia and
Maggie
had mentioned it. The minute she’d come out of the orphanage she’d planned to visit there as soon as she could, but she intended to go on her own, not with two people like Sonia and Maggie.

That was why she hadn’t mentioned to the two girls that she knew the place like the back of her hand. She wondered what they would think if she told them that her mother had taken her begging in her home-made invalid carriage to Paddy’s Market, as well as to St John’s Market and the dockside, when she’d been a kid of eight.

‘Come on, there’s the twelve o’clock hooter, and you promised,’ Sonia urged. ‘Tell you what, instead of meeting up there why don’t we go straight from work?’

Winnie gave in. Ten minutes later she was hobbling out of the factory gates, trying to keep up with Maggie and Sonia.

They took a tram to Scotland Road, Maggie and Sonia chattering all the way about what they were hoping to buy. As they made their way to Great Homer Street, Winnie found herself looking round eagerly for familiar faces. Deep down she knew it was unlikely that she would recognise any of the people she had known as a child, even if she passed right next to them.

The market seemed different from what she remembered. There was so much hustle and bustle, such a variety of stalls.

‘Come on, we want to go and find some clothes. You can get some real bargains, you know, if you dig around carefully on the second-hand stalls,’
Sonia
told her. ‘They’re really cheap, too, because most of the stall-holders are willing to haggle. That’s the best bit really,’ she giggled.

‘You go on then, and I’ll follow. I can’t keep up with you,’ Winnie told her.

‘You sure you don’t mind?’

‘She said for us to go on, so let’s get cracking,’ Maggie said, grabbing hold of Sonia’s arm and dragging her away.

Left on her own, Winnie looked round more leisurely. More and more memories of her childhood days came flooding back. Once she thought she saw Mrs Reilly, Father Patrick’s housekeeper.

I must be going off my head, or else it’s the heat, she told herself. Someone like Mrs Reilly wouldn’t come here to Paddy’s Market. If she went to a market at all it would be to St John’s, which was in a different category altogether.

She was so engrossed in her thoughts that she wasn’t looking where she was going and accidentally placed one of her sticks on a discarded banana skin and found herself falling. Terror-stricken, she cried out, and suddenly there was a pair of strong arms grabbing her and hauling her upright again.

As she looked round to thank the person who had prevented her from crashing to the ground she drew her breath in sharply.

‘Sandy? Sandy Coulson?’

The broad-shouldered, red-haired chap who had come to her aid let out a long low whistle.

‘Winnie Malloy? I don’t believe it!’

Winnie found herself swept off her feet in a bear
hug
that took her breath away. When he released her he held her at arm’s length, his green eyes surveying her from top to toe in amazement.

‘I never thought I was ever going to see you again,’ he laughed. ‘They stuck you in the Holy Cross Orphanage after your mam died, didn’t they?’

‘That’s right. I came out last Sunday. It was my fourteenth birthday last Wednesday.’

‘Fourteen! Remember when I used to push you to school in that invalid chair your dad made for you?’

Winnie’s eyes misted. ‘How could I ever forget, you were such a good friend in those days.’

‘In those days? What do you mean by that, Winnie Malloy? I can still be a good friend, if you’ll let me.’

Winnie turned scarlet. ‘I don’t live around here any more.’

He raised his eyebrows. ‘You giving me the brush-off?’

‘No, no, of course not. I’d like us to still be friends. I’ve missed you a lot.’

He nodded, running his hand through his red hair. ‘What is it, five years since you left Carswell Court, the place you moved to after Elias Street?’

‘About that!’

‘So where are you living now?’

‘In a hostel,’ she pulled a face, ‘and I’m working as a packer at Johnson’s Mantles.’

He gave her a quizzical look. ‘You don’t like it there?’

She shook her head. ‘Not really.’

He listened in silence as she told him about the work she was doing and about the people she worked alongside.

‘They sound a right miserable bunch,’ he agreed.

‘A couple of them are all right. I came here with two of them, Sonia and Maggie. Bert, the charge hand, doesn’t like me much. Complains all the time about my sticks being in his way.’

‘I noticed you’re managing on sticks these days,’ Sandy said casually. ‘Do you get on OK with them?’

‘Not really. I had a proper wheelchair all the time I was at the orphanage, but it belonged to them so I had to give it up when I left there last Sunday.’

‘You could always get another one?’

‘Pigs might fly!’

‘What sort of answer is that?’

‘Well, where do you think I am going to get the money to buy a wheelchair? They pay washers at Johnson’s!’

‘Then change your job.’

‘I’d like to do that, but I can’t see anyone employing a cripple like me, can you?’

Before Sandy could answer, Sonia and Maggie came looking for her. They’d both found the bargains they’d hoped to buy and now they were anxious to get home so that they could have a meal and be ready to go out dancing later on.

‘Didn’t take you long to get off with someone,’ Maggie snapped.

‘She simply fell at my feet,’ Sandy told them. ‘Lots of girls do that,’ he added, winking at Winnie.

Since he didn’t seem to want to disclose the fact that they were old friends, Winnie kept up the pretence that they had only just met for the first time.

She stood quietly to one side as Sandy chatted up Sonia and Maggie, playing them off, one against the other, teasing and flirting with them both.

‘If we’re going to get ready for that dance tonight, Sonia, then we ought to be getting back home,’ Maggie urged.

‘Oright!’ Sonia gave Sandy a bright smile. ‘Fancy coming with us?’ she invited.

‘No,’ he grinned. ‘I’ve got other fish to fry.’

‘Be like that,’ Maggie retorted huffily. ‘We only asked.’

Sandy smiled, but said nothing.

‘Come on then, kiddo.’ Sonia reached out to take Winnie’s arm.

‘I’ll see her home,’ Sandy told her.

‘You will?’

‘Yeah! Why not?’

‘Suit yourself,’ Maggie shrugged. ‘You know she can’t walk without those sticks though, don’t you?’

‘Then she won’t be going dancing with you two, will she,’ Sandy retorted.

Sonia and Maggie exchanged looks, then they linked arms and walked off in high dudgeon.

‘Those are two of the girls you work with?’ Sandy questioned.

‘They’re two of the nicer ones.’

‘No wonder you don’t like it there,’ he said lugubriously. ‘Never mind. Just let me pack up things here and lock everything away and then
we’ll
go to Lyons Corner House and have a good long chat.’

‘Sorry, Sandy, I can’t do that,’ Winnie told him uneasily.

‘Why not? You’re not planning on doing anything else except getting a tram back to the hostel, are you?’

She shook her head.

‘Then why not come to Lyons Corner House with me?’

Winnie looked uneasy. ‘I … I can’t afford it,’ she said ruefully.

‘Did I say you’d be the one who was paying?’ he frowned.

‘No … but …’

‘There are no buts. When I ask a girl out, I pay, and no argument,’ he told her sternly.

Because it was so busy with people leaving the market they realised they would have a long wait for a tram into Lord Street, so they ended up going to the Kardomah, which was nearer.

Sandy found them a corner table, made sure Winnie was comfortable, then ordered a pot of tea and Welsh rarebit for both of them. When Winnie tried to protest he told her that he always popped in there for a meal about this time on a Saturday.

‘I have work to do after the market shuts down, which isn’t until about ten o’clock tonight. I’m a porter so I have to help clear up.’

‘You haven’t got a stall?’

Sandy shook his head. ‘I’ll have one soon. I’m looking into it. Trying to decide what sort of goods to handle. I’m watching points and trying to find
out
which sort of things sell best and which you make the most money from before I make my mind up.’

When they’d finished their Welsh rarebit, Sandy insisted that they both have another cup of tea and a pudding.

‘They do a great suet duff with custard,’ he told Winnie.

‘I’m full,’ she laughed. ‘That was lovely, something I haven’t had for as long as I can remember.’

‘You must have a pudding,’ he insisted. ‘If you don’t want suet duff then how about some ice-cream?’

As she pushed her empty dish away, Winnie thought it was the best day she’d ever had. Seeing Sandy again had been wonderful. Having a meal with him and being able to talk to someone who understood her problems and cared about them was an added bonus.

‘Come on, things should have quietened down by now so I’ll see you back to the hostel and then I’ll have to come back to work.’

‘No, you don’t need to do that. I can get a tram, honest!’

‘I’ll see you onto the tram then, if you are sure you can manage at the other end.’

Before he waved her goodbye, Sandy made her promise that they’d meet up again soon. ‘I’ll see if I can find you a job at the market if you like,’ he offered. ‘Although it might mean long hours,’ he warned.

‘Would you? That would be wonderful. I feel like a prisoner in that factory. It’s no better than being locked away in the orphanage.’

‘Come and see me again next Saturday,’ he told her as they heard the tram clanging towards where they were standing. ‘I can’t promise anything, but I’ll ask around and see what I can do.’

‘Thank you, Sandy.’

‘That’s all right, kiddo, it’s nice to have you back.’ He kissed her on the cheek and helped her up onto the tram. ‘Take care now. See you next week, don’t forget.’

Even though she knew it meant missing breakfast, Winnie stayed in bed the next morning. It seemed wonderful to be able to lie there dozing and dreaming and reliving her meeting with Sandy. She’d often thought about him, but seeing him again and finding that he hadn’t really changed, except to become even nicer, made her hope that they would see a lot more of each other in the future.

When she did finally get up it was almost half past ten and she toyed with the idea of going to Mass at St Francis’s like she’d done as a child. Then the thought that she might bump into Sandy and he might think she was chasing after him stopped her.

It was a glorious warm morning, so instead of going to Mass she took a tram down to the Pier Head. She found a bench in the sunshine and sat there, gazing out across the sun-kissed water of the Mersey to where the purple outlines of the Welsh mountains were visible in the distance.

She watched enviously as the crowds made their
way
down the floating roadway and boarded the ferryboats to cross over to Wallasey and New Brighton, and wished she could afford to join them.

Chapter Sixteen

BY MID-AFTERNOON, HUNGER
forced Winnie to think about getting back to the hostel. Apart from a cup of tea and a currant bun at midday she’d eaten nothing since the previous evening.

Because it was Sunday there would only be a cold supper, and that would be cleared away by six o’clock. It was better than nothing, she told herself, and since it was included as part of her lodging money she might as well go and take advantage of it.

She thought longingly of the delicious meal she’d enjoyed with Sandy the day before and wished she could treat herself to something like that, but she knew that was impossible. She had already spent most of the money they had given her when she left the orphanage and there would be no more until payday the following Friday.

Reluctant to leave the busy waterfront she started to make her way to the tram terminus. However, she found that after sitting for so long she had stiffened up. Head down, she dragged her twisted legs up the gradient, wishing she still had her wheelchair, and wondered if she would ever be able to save up enough money to get another one like Sandy had suggested.

‘Winnie Malloy! Is it really you?’

A familiar voice startled her. She looked up into the face of a young man in uniform.

‘Bob Flowers!’ Her eyes widened in amazement. ‘You look so grown-up!’

She couldn’t believe what was happening. After all this time she was suddenly reunited with both Sandy Coulson and Bob Flowers, all within the space of twenty-four hours.

‘What are you doing struggling along on those sticks? I hardly recognised you with your hair so different. Where’s your wheelchair?’

Winnie shrugged. ‘It belonged to the orphanage. I had to leave it behind when I left there last week.’

‘You’ve only been out a week? Why didn’t you let me know you were coming out. You’ve never answered any of my letters,’ he said reproachfully.

Winnie looked at him, puzzled. ‘What letters? You never wrote to me. You promised you’d write and tell me how you were getting on and that you would let me have your address so that I could find you when I came out,’ she reminded him.

‘I did. I wrote to you the very next day after I left, and I sent you a card and a present at Christmas and the following Easter. Then when I didn’t hear from you I gave up trying.’

Winnie looked taken aback. ‘I never got any of them, Bob. I thought that once you were out of the orphanage you wanted to put it all behind you. I thought that meant you didn’t want to have anything more to do with me either.’

‘That’s rubbish and you know it!’ he said angrily. ‘I said we’d stay friends for ever, remember? I even promised that I would try and find a place
somewhere
that we could share, and that we’d move in together when you came out.’

‘I know you did, and I believed you and was looking forward to it, but I never heard a word from you. I asked Sister Tabitha if she knew where you’d gone, or what you were doing, and she said no one had heard from you.’