Liverpool Taffy (37 page)

‘Yup. He’ll send Harry round, get him to collect all hands. He wants us to eat first, then shoot. I’ll give Bandy the word.’

The cook must have been listening because he leaned through his hatch, head and shoulders on the serving table. On their last voyage an unexpected surge had brought the hatch crashing down and Bandy had been trapped, swearing and blinding, until someone came below and released him, but it did not appear to have made him more careful.

‘So we’re shootin’, eh? Not before time. There’s steak an’ kidney puddin’ and two veg comin’ up in ten, fifteen minutes.’

‘Luverly grub,’ Greasy said. ‘Double helps for me, Bandy … an’ for me young friend ’ere.’

‘We’ll need it when we haul,’ Dai said, going over to the hatch and addressing the galley boy through it as Bandy withdrew to tend his stoves once more. ‘Got a biscuit or something? Hungry I am.’

The galley boy was fourteen and a gannet; he ate everything that wasn’t chained down but he could always conjure you up something between meals. Silently, he produced a bacon sandwich from somewhere and shoved it through the hatch. Dai thanked him and retreated to the mess table once more, where he sat shoulder to shoulder with Greasy and ate solidly until the sandwich was no more than a pleasant memory.

‘I should be headin’ for me kip now,’ Greasy grumbled, eating the last of his own substantial snack. ‘It’s allus the bleedin’ same, Taff, we allus shoots when you an’ me’s off watch.’

‘I reckon every man aboard feels like that,’ Dai said. ‘Chuck us the pad, Grease; I’ll write home, I think.’

‘Oh, you an’ your letters! Writin’ to Biddy, are you? Or that other piece, on Anglesey?’

‘My sister Sîan is not a “piece”, she’s a married lady. And yes, I’m writin’ to Biddy. Just a few lines. I write a few lines most days, then when we get back to port I send off a big, fat letter. Besides, almost as good as seein’ her, it is, to write.’

‘But you said on your last leave you had a word with Stuart Gallagher an’ he said she were too young an’ you might ’old back a trifle,’ Greasy said. ‘If writin’ every day’s holdin’ back a trifle then I’m the Pope!’

‘He only meant not to get too serious with her,’ Dai said. ‘Oh shut up, Greasy, and let me write.’

He reached for the well-sharpened pencil and the pad of lined paper, brought Biddy up to date with what had happened on board the
Bess
in the last day or two and then sat back and sighed. Beside him, Greasy closed his eyes and, presently, began to snore.

Dai thought back to his last, longish shore leave, when he had managed to get back to Liverpool. Because they had had good catches and good trips from January to June he’d not gone back to Moelfre either – no time between sailings. But the money was mounting up nicely, and since the Mate had suggested he might get promotion he had borrowed books on navigation and seamanship and studied when he had time.

He telephoned Biddy though, whenever he was in port. He would ring through, let the phone bell sound three times, and ring off, then ring again immediately. That way Biddy would know it was him ringing and would run to the telephone. Sometimes the calls were more pain than pleasure, hearing her little voice so faint and far off, but at least they kept in touch that way.

Then he decided he would go up during a four-day shore leave and talk to Biddy once again about marrying, see how she felt about him staying in distant-water trawlers, but as an officer, eventually.

He got into Liverpool late one evening and knew he would have a bare forty-eight hours in the city before he had to leave again if he was not to miss his sailing. He went straight to the Gallagher house and was warmly welcomed by Nellie, Stuart and Elizabeth, Biddy hovering in the background, all smiles though her eyes sparkled with excitement and tears.

He ate with the family, talked about his recent voyages, explained that he had not been back since Christmas because catches had been excellent and the
Bess
had come through unscathed, so it was not necessary to put her into dry dock which always gave the crew a decent bit of time to themselves. But now he was here for a short spell … it was nice to see Liverpool in bright summer weather, to have the long evenings, to be able to admire the gardens and the parks, to tell the Gallaghers they had done wonders with their roses.

He insisted on helping with the washing up. Biddy washed, he and Elizabeth dried. Later that evening, he and the two girls went for a walk and talked a little about themselves. Biddy did not say much but Elizabeth prattled on – she was going to university, not many girls did but she would, her teachers thought she was clever enough and her Mam and Da saw no reason why not …

Dai told them about his hopes of promotion, the studying that he was doing when he had time both aboard the
Bess
and ashore. ‘Not even been home to see my Da I haven’t,’ he said, addressing the words to Biddy, though he continued to look at Elizabeth. ‘Came straight here as soon as I could.’

‘Why don’t you miss a voyage, just one? You said some of the fellows do,’ Elizabeth asked him. ‘Then you could see your Da and come here for longer; oh do, Dai, we could have such a good time!’

‘I’m savin’ up, I can’t afford a voyage out,’ Dai told her. ‘We’re well paid, but only so long as we stay with our ship.’

‘What do you want to save for?’ Elizabeth asked, with the disdain of one who has had everything she wants instantly provided all her life long. ‘Is money so important to you, Dai?’

‘Indeed it is, Lizzie. Savin’ up to get married I am, one of these fine days,’ Dai said, and saw his love blush delightfully, though Elizabeth just sniffed and said it seemed a pretty poor excuse to her.

That evening, very late, Dai and Biddy met in the kitchen. Dai had known she would come to him as he sat in the dying firelight, the
Manual of Seamanship Vol. I
open on his knee, his eyes fixed on the door.

She slid into the room, a small wraith in her white cotton nightgown with bare toes peeping out from under
it. She went straight into his arms and they hugged with desperation, kissed hungrily, wrapped up in each other, each feeling the thunder of the other’s heartbeat, each knowing the giddying joy of being together.

Presently, he sat down and pulled her onto his knee. She was so soft and pliant without all the fuss and botheration of her clothing, with only the thin cotton nightdress between them. Dai groaned and kissed her neck, then began to squeeze and fondle her, to smooth his hand over her breasts …

The kitchen door opening nearly caused both of them to die of shock. Biddy sprang off his lap and stood, trembling like an aspen, on the hearth. Dai stood up. ‘Stuart! I’m doing some studying and …’

‘It looked like it,’ Stuart said with laughter behind his voice. He jerked his head at Biddy. ‘Go off to bed, love, you’ve done nothing wrong either of you, but perhaps you’ve been a bit unwise. Don’t worry, Biddy, I’ll have a word with this young man and that’s the last either of you will hear about it. I’m no tell-tale, it goes no further.’

Biddy went over to the doorway, then paused, staring at Stuart. ‘Mr Gallagher, Mr Evans wasn’t … wasn’t taking advantage of me or anything like that. We – we are good f-friends, I came down to see if – if he needed anything, and … and …’

‘I know, I was young myself, once. Off with you, Biddy, you’ll catch your death standing around in that thin nightgown.’

Dai went over to the doorway and watched his love up the stairs, treading so softly that not a stair creaked, then he went back into the kitchen and closed the door. ‘Stuart, I want to marry Biddy and I believe she wants to marry me. I’ve never done anything to her – with her – that either of us could be ashamed of, though we do kiss and cuddle. If I’d had evil in mind I’d have gone to her room or persuaded her to mine … but we do have to talk sometimes, and it’s very difficult to be with her without the whole household knowing about it.’

‘And what’s wrong with that? Us knowing, I mean?’

‘Nellie said something to me the first time I stayed with you; she said she was glad she hadn’t married the first man who took her around and paid her compliments, and she hoped both Biddy and Elizabeth would take their time, meet people, before they took the plunge into matrimony. Apparently she’s known several girls who’ve married the first man who asked them and lived to regret it. She wasn’t meaning me and Biddy, I knew that, but I could tell – thought I could tell – that she would say we ought to wait. Besides we can’t afford to marry yet and Biddy’s so happy here, she was terrified that if Nellie or you found out that we liked each other, she might be asked to go.’

‘Never! But you know, Dai, Biddy really is rather young and very innocent. I doubt very much if anyone other than yourself has kissed her, certainly she doesn’t go out with young men. I won’t ask you to do anything foolish, like not seeing one another, clearly you are both very attached, but I do think that you should encourage Biddy to go dancing, meet other young men. And then, in a year’s time …’

‘I’d not dream of asking her to stay away from dances and fun, but she don’t seem to want such things, not any more,’ Dai said rather hopelessly. ‘She used to go to the Acacia Dance Hall every Saturday night with her friend Ellen and meet young men and dance with them, but since she’s come here she’s lost interest, or so she says.’

‘Oh! I didn’t realise she used to go there.’ Stuart, who had been standing with his back to the fire, sighed and sat down in one of the fireside chairs, motioning Dai to follow suit. ‘Look, old man, I don’t mean to interfere, but we’re all only human. If you and Biddy keep meeting clandestinely, particularly when Biddy’s only wearing a nightgown, what do you think is going to happen? I know you’ll tell me you’re a man of honour, but I know what would happen if I were in your shoes! And that would be very unfair on Biddy, very unfair indeed, with you out in the Arctic somewhere and her facing the music alone.’

‘Oh!’ Dai said. He had immediately seen the truth of Stuart’s words because he knew that, had no one walked into the room, he would almost certainly have gone a good deal further than was right. But dammit, he loved her … if they married. … He put the point to Stuart who did not seem impressed.

‘Yes, but you can’t marry; not yet,’ Stuart had pointed out briskly. ‘You’re still saving up, right? And Biddy is too. She’ll want a wedding dress, a trousseau, all the usual things young girls want. She saves most of her wages and in a year she’ll be in a comfortable position. So will you give her room to grow in that year? For Biddy’s sake, Dai?’

What choice had he got, after mat? And he knew it was true that if they kept meeting on the sly then sooner or later they would make love and Biddy could easily find herself pregnant. He had been with other girls, of course he had, but not young innocents like her. The sort of girl who roams the Grimsby docks knows how to take care of herself and is paid well for taking all the responsibility. Biddy was too good for him anyway, she certainly didn’t deserve to be treated as if she was just another dockyard floozie.

‘Right, Stuart,’ Dai had said therefore, briskly but with a good grace. ‘You have a point and I’ll abide by it. No more cuddling in the kitchen after dark, just loving friends we will be. And in a year we’ll marry and I’ll steal her from you.’

Stuart had laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. ‘It’s a bargain! Your trouble, old man, was that you fooled us all. I never realised you and Biddy were more than acquaintances.… Do all the letters come from you, then?’

‘Well, I hope so,’ Dai said, grinning. ‘Keep a postman occupied full-time we do, with the letters rushing across the country. I’ll go to bed now … but it’ll be good to know you’re keeping an eye on her for me.’

Next day he gave Biddy a slightly watered-down version of their talk and Biddy had nodded thoughtfully.

‘I’m not going dancing or anything like that, but I’ll work hard and save up and in a year … in a year we’ll talk about it again.’

That conversation, however, had taken place in the spring and now it was August and Dai’s resolve was beginning to pall. Oh, not his resolve that he would never take advantage of Biddy, he was determined that they would not fall into that particular trap, but his resolve to wait a year before marriage. Better to marry than to burn, the Good Book said, and there were times when Dai burned for Biddy. Besides, it was over six months since they had met and fallen in love, he didn’t see why they shouldn’t at least get engaged. He was
planning to spend his bonus this trip on a small ring, and if Biddy agreed they could at least name the day.

‘All right you lot, grub up! Come on, get it in you whiles you got the chanst!’ Bandy’s round red face appeared through the hatch. ‘Come on, the old man’s swiggin’ brandy an’ stuffin’ hisself wi’ me beef an’ kidney puddin’; you’d best look lively or he’ll be bawlin’ you all up on deck afore you’ve et!’

Elizabeth was growing up, and growing beautiful, what was more. She and Biddy often had their heads together over various matters, and Nellie had noticed that sometimes Elizabeth would accede to a suggestion which came from Biddy, whereas if she, Nellie, made that same suggestion, her daughter would unhesitatingly turn it down.

But Nellie knew it was all part of growing up so she just smiled and found a way of phrasing her suggestions so that they scarcely seemed to be suggestions at all, just ideas thrown out at random. That way, Elizabeth could believe herself totally independant of her parents, but Nellie could still keep her finger on the pulse of her daughter’s activities.

Recently, Stuart had come home looking thoughtful, and had told Nellie, when they were alone, that he had been offered the chance to go up to Scotland and help to launch a new glossy magazine being started in Edinburgh.

‘It’s an opportunity, but I know how happy you are here, so I’ll tell them I’m not interested,’ he had said. ‘No point in uprooting ourselves, though in a year or two it will be Elizabeth who will want to uproot, when she goes to university.’

‘If she goes to university,’ Nellie corrected, a slight frown marring her brow. ‘You know our girl … she blows hot and cold, one minute she wants one thing, the next minute, another. Besides, things are so unsettled, Stu! The world situation, I mean. You believe there’s going to be a war, don’t you? There was the trouble over the poor Austrian Jews, then Hitler put the Austrian leaders into that Dachau place and no one tried to stop him … and the Air Force are running a huge recruitment campaign, you see the posters everywhere. I’m worried that war will come before poor Lizzie even leaves school, and if it does she won’t want to go to university, she’ll want to join one of the forces, I expect.’