Lights Out Liverpool (30 page)

‘What do you mean?’ The response was automatic, because she knew exactly what he meant. Something
had
happened, and it wasn’t just the beating she’d taken off Francis she was thinking of, but the certain knowledge that the marriage was irrevocably over. She would never have him back under any circumstances. In the heat of anger, she’d uttered the fateful word, ‘divorce’. She didn’t care what the church said or what the neighbours thought, she’d divorce him, even if it meant her name would be mud throughout the whole of Bootle. If necessary, she’d move away, out to Melling, where Tony would grow up surrounded by green fields and trees and flowers. Knowing this, knowing that one day, she wasn’t sure how long it would take, she would be a single woman again, made her see Nick in a different light.

He hadn’t answered her question, but was looking at her, his brown eyes glowing with an expression that only a fool would deny was love. Eileen felt her head begin to spin. What wonderful, previously undreamt of things might life have in store for her? Nick picked up her left hand and began to twist her wedding ring around her finger.

‘You’re different,’ he murmured. ‘Until tonight, you’ve always held me at a distance.’

‘Things have changed since we last met,’ she conceded. ‘I’ll tell you some time.’

The music began again, this time for the Gay Gordons. Nick made no attempt to ask her to dance. ‘Are you
better
? The chap who brought the message said you were ill.’

‘I’m fine. I wasn’t really ill,’ she said briefly.

‘I kept thinking of you.’ His eyes twinkled and she remembered that was the first thing that had attracted her the day they met in Southport. ‘I said to myself, “Sickness is catching. O, were favours so, yours would I catch, fair Eileen, ere I go, my ear should catch your voice, my eye your eye. My tongue should catch your tongue’s sweet melody”.’

She laughed. ‘That’s pretty! Did you make it up?’

‘No. It’s Shakespeare. Didn’t you do him at school?’

Eileen wanted the wooden floor to open up and swallow her. What a fool he’d think she was! And what a fool to think there could ever be anything between them when she was so ignorant she didn’t even recognise Shakespeare!

‘I left school when I was fourteen,’ she muttered. ‘We never did Shakespeare.’

‘That’s a shame,’ he said sympathetically, and she glanced at him surreptitiously. He didn’t seem the least bit shocked or disgusted. ‘Perhaps we could go to the theatre next time there’s one of his plays on?’

‘Perhaps,’ she said shortly.

He frowned. ‘What’s the matter?’

‘You’ve just made me feel dead stupid,’ she burst out. ‘Fancy me thinking you’d made it up!’

‘Oh, my dear girl!’ He put his arm around her shoulders. ‘You’re anything but stupid. You’re the wisest woman I’ve ever met. I can talk to you like I’ve never talked to anyone before. Just because you don’t know everything written by a dead playwright doesn’t make you stupid. Come here.’

She was close to tears of shame and embarrassment.
‘As
long as we could read and write and do a few sums, that’s all the teachers cared.’

He cradled her in his arms. ‘And that’s all I care, too.’

‘But it’s not right!’ she cried indignantly. ‘Everyone has a right to a decent education. It should be the same for all children, rich or poor.’

She became aware that Nick was shaking and she pushed him away to find him convulsed with laughter. ‘What’s the matter?’ she asked indignantly.

‘This is a New Year’s Eve ball. We’re here to have a good time, and a good time seems to be what everyone is having.’ He gestured towards the dancers stamping around the ballroom, twisting and turning to the Gay Gordons. ‘Except Eileen Costello, upset because she doesn’t know every single Shakespeare play off by heart, and ranting on about the lousy education system in the country.’

She felt her lips twitch. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said penitently.

‘And so you should be!’ He stood up, reaching for her. ‘Come on, there’s a bar somewhere. I think you need a drink.’

During the interval, Eileen tracked down the girls, feeling guilty for having deserted them, but they were happily surrounded by a crowd of foreign servicemen and claimed not to have noticed she wasn’t there.

After she had introduced Nick, Doris gasped, ‘Nick! So,
that’s
who those flowers were from that day! You canny bugger, Eileen. Where’ve you been hiding him all this time?’

‘I’ll tell you Monday,’ Eileen said hastily. ‘C’mon, Nick. I think we’re cramping this lot’s style.’

As the evening wore on the ballroom became more and more packed, and it was a struggle to move on the
crowded
floor. Despite this, Eileen and Nick managed a passable waltz together. ‘We should do this more often,’ he suggested. ‘A few more sessions and we could take it up professionally. We’ll call ourselves Fred Stephens and Ginger Costello.’

‘If you like,’ she said contentedly, her head on his shoulder. They danced in silence for a while, then Eileen looked at him directly. ‘It’s funny, but I feel as if I’ve known you all my life.’

‘We do get on well together, don’t we?’ He smiled down at her. ‘Perhaps the gods on high marked us down for each other a long while ago.’

‘Have you had many girlfriends?’ She wondered, slightly jealous, if he got on with other women as well as he did with her.

‘A few, but none like you. You’re different from any other woman I’ve ever known.’

‘I bet you told them that, too,’ she said with a laugh.

‘No!’ He stopped dancing and they were immediately buffeted by other couples around them. ‘There’s something about you, Eileen Costello,’ he said seriously. ‘You’re as innocent and unsullied as an angel.’

Before Eileen could digest this unusual compliment, Doris swirled by in the arms of a soldier with a face like a Greek god.

‘Isn’t my feller just like Gary Cooper?’ she yelled. ‘He’s a Polish officer and he don’t speak a word of English, but we get on fine. Don’t forget I’ve got your cloakroom ticket if you’re leaving early,’ she shouted as she was waltzed away.

‘You’re leaving early?’ Nick raised his eyebrows disappointedly. ‘I was hoping to catch a balloon for you when they’re released at midnight.’ There were hundreds of them suspended from the ceiling in a net.

‘I promised Tony I’d be back by then,’ Eileen told him, disappointed herself, but firm in her resolve not to let Tony down.

‘Just like Cinderella! In that case, can I take you home? I have a carriage waiting outside in the form of a motorbike and sidecar.’

‘I’ll get the train. I don’t want to spoil your evening.’ She trod on his toe and burst into giggles. ‘If I haven’t already spoilt it!’

‘What point is there staying once you’ve gone?’ He looked hurt, and the simple words made her head spin.

When half past eleven came, she found the girls and wished them a Happy New Year, then left with Nick to collect his bike from a nearby car park.

The drive to Bootle was unpleasant and claustrophobic along the unlit roads, with Nick scarcely visible on the bike beside her, and Eileen almost wished she’d taken up his joking offer to ride pillion. She felt relieved when they drew up outside the King’s Arms. As she began to struggle out, Nick alighted and came round to help.

‘Thank you,’ she said politely. ‘It’s been a lovely evening.’

‘Thank you, Mrs Costello. Likewise.’

She could sense him grinning down at her. ‘Oh, I suppose you’d better come in.’ She couldn’t bear the idea of him driving through the countryside all by himself as New Year struck, though on the other hand, what on earth would Sheila and her dad think when she turned up with a strange man?

‘I knew you’d ask,’ he chuckled.

‘You seem to know me better than I know meself,’ she said dryly.

Sheila took their arrival with far more equanimity than
Eileen
had expected. No matter how firmly you believed in the marriage vows, thought Sheila, it was a bit much to expect a woman to stay with a man who’d nearly killed her, particularly if the woman concerned happened to be your sister. In fact, she felt more than pleased to see Eileen looking so radiantly happy. She gave them the last of Jacob Singerman’s sherry.

Jack Doyle merely grunted, ‘Pleased to meet you,’ when Nick was introduced.

‘Where’s Tony?’ Eileen asked. The only child visible was Siobhan, playing with a doll in her favourite place underneath the table.

‘Fast asleep in the parlour,’ replied her sister. ‘Mr Singerman went home a while ago. I think he was a bit upset and wanted to be by himself.’

‘I’ll go and see him tomorrow,’ promised Eileen. She tugged Nick’s sleeve. ‘Come and meet Tony.’

They crept into the parlour. Tony was lying on the sofa covered with his grandad’s overcoat, his glasses askew and sucking his thumb like a baby. Eileen leaned down, gently removed the glasses and kissed her son’s pale cheek.

‘I won’t wake him,’ she whispered.

‘He’s a lovely child,’ said Nick seriously. ‘Almost as lovely as his mother.’ He pulled Eileen towards him and began to kiss her passionately. She felt his tongue wriggling against her lips, and for the briefest moment kept her mouth closed, her body stiff, then, unable to help herself, her body melted into his and she gave herself to him utterly.

‘Eileen! It’s almost midnight.’

Sheila’s voice brought them down to earth.

‘We’d better go in,’ Eileen said shyly.

When they returned to the living room, she wondered
if
she looked as bemused and dreamy as she felt, as they both sat and waited innocently for the clock to chime in the New Year.

When it did, Nick kissed her and Sheila modestly on the cheek and shook hands with her dad. Then he was despatched out of the back and ordered to collect a piece of coal on the way and return by the front door.

‘A dark stranger bearing coal, you’ll bring good luck,’ Sheila told him, when he departed, somewhat mystified. Whilst they waited, she said wistfully, ‘I wonder what Cal’s doing right now?’

‘I know exactly what Calum Reilly will be doing,’ Eileen said, hugging her, ‘thinking of you. He’s probably never stopped since he was taken prisoner.’

‘I can’t
wait
for him to come back!’

‘He’ll be home to a hero’s welcome,’ Jack Doyle said gruffly. ‘We’ll put the flags out for our Cal.’

Eileen smiled, wondering what Calum would think when he found himself in favour and Francis no longer the object of her dad’s stern affection. ‘Talking of coming home, where’s Nick? He’s taking an awful long time.’

Nick turned up eventually, having knocked on next-door-but-one by mistake, where George Ransome was having a party, and several young ladies had captured him and refused to let him go. ‘I’ve had two whiskies and a proposal of marriage,’ he said, laughingly rubbing smears of bright red lipstick off his face. ‘The people round here are very friendly.’

‘Where’s the coal?’ demanded Sheila. ‘I want to keep that piece on the mantelpiece beside Our Lady for luck.’

‘I’d like to make a toast.’ Jack Doyle stood, raising his glass. ‘Here’s to the year nineteen forty. May it bring Cal home safe and sound and good fortune to my
family
. But most of all, and I wish this more than I’ve ever wished anything in me life before, may it bring peace to this country of ours.’

‘But you
can’t
take her!’ Vivien Waterton stared with horror at the tubby man in a black gabardine mackintosh who was standing in the middle of the room twiddling his bowler hat in his hands. She’d asked him to sit down, but he’d taken no notice.

‘I’m sorry, Madam, but I must. I have orders to return Freda Tutty to her mother.’

‘I don’t want to go back to me mother!’ Freda clung to Vivien’s arm. ‘She doesn’t want me. She doesn’t care if I’m there or not.’

‘It would appear she does.’ The man looked uncomfortable. He was sweating visibly in the over-heated room. ‘We have a letter from Mrs Tutty requesting your return.’

‘What d’yer mean, a letter?’ snarled Freda. ‘Me mam can’t write. She got the woman next door to do it.’

‘That may be, but it makes no difference,’ the man said stubbornly. ‘Now, if you’d like to pack a bag?’

‘You’ve no right just to turn up without notice,’ cried Vivien, close to tears. ‘Why didn’t you let us know you were coming?’

The man didn’t answer, but proceeded to twiddle further with his hat. This was the second case they’d had of a couple refusing to return their evacuee. In the first, due notice had been given that the child was to be removed on a certain day, only to find when they turned up that the boy had been whisked down south to relatives and had still not been located. The Billeting Office had no intention of
making
that
mistake again. He felt sorry for the girl, though she looked a right little madam, and for the little, doll-like woman who wanted to keep her, but his main sympathy was with the mother, whom he had not yet met.

‘I’d like to ring my husband.’ The little woman reached for the telephone on the coffee table beside her. Clive wouldn’t let them take Freda away. ‘He’ll come straight home.’

‘I’m afraid I can’t wait, Madam.’

‘I won’t let you take me. You’ll have to drag me out,’ the girl threatened.

‘I hope that won’t be necessary, Miss, but if so, I have a constable waiting outside in the car.’

‘You can’t do this! You can’t!’ Vivien leaped to her feet, catching her knee on the coffee table. There was a sharp crack as bone touched wood and she felt her heart thud crazily in her chest. As she reached down to rub her knee, she was overcome with dizziness and would have fallen if Freda hadn’t flung her arms around her and begun to sob.

‘Oh, God!’ muttered the man, in agonies of embarrassment.

‘This isn’t the end, darling,’ said Vivien, still dizzy, and unaccountably breathless. ‘Clive will sort it out.’

‘I don’t want to leave, Vivien. I never want to leave.’

‘I know, darling.’ Vivien pushed the heaving form away. For the first time, staring at the strangely blurred little face convulsed with misery, she felt the stirrings of genuine, maternal love and with it came the realisation that Freda wasn’t her little sister, a playmate, but a child who needed her protection. At that moment, Vivien grew up. ‘Go with the man,’ she whispered. ‘It won’t be for long.’