Queen of the Mersey (27 page)

Try as she might, she found it impossible to imagine being married. It was nice to think about the wedding, discuss with Laura what style of dress she’d like, but beyond that her mind refused to go.

‘I hope you’re not marrying Jimmy for his sake rather than your own,’ Laura said when Queenie tried to explain her feelings.

‘I don’t think so. It’s probably because I haven’t seen him for such a long time. It’s bound to work out all right in the end.’

‘I suppose lots of wives are finding it hard to get used to their husbands again, let alone boyfriends.’ Laura sighed. ‘Me, I wasn’t given the chance.’

Half the tables in the restaurant had been removed, leaving enough space in the centre for people to dance. Four musicians in red satin shirts and black trousers were playing, ‘The Way You Look Tonight’, and a few couples had already taken to the floor when Queenie went in, all women dancing with each other.

Partners hadn’t been invited. Freddy’s employed over three hundred staff and there wouldn’t have been room. Having only been there a fortnight, she hardly knew a soul, so stood at the back of the crowd standing awkwardly inside the entrance, admiring the way the chandeliers cast little sparkling spots of light on to the wood-panelled walls. The atmosphere was stiff and rather formal.

A woman said, ‘Excuse me, luv,’ and was about to push past when she paused. ‘I remember you! You asked the price of that Jacques Fath costume. I admired the way your face didn’t even flicker when I said seventy-five guineas.’ It was the blonde assistant from Ladies’ Exclusive Fashions. ‘I didn’t realise you worked here,’ she said.

‘I didn’t then. I’d just had an interview that day. I’m still trying to work out how a costume could possibly cost so much.’

‘It’s the label,’ the woman explained, ‘and the fact it’s from Paris. The style is new, setting a trend. The skirt’s about five inches longer than usual, the jacket’s fitted instead of boxy and it hasn’t got shoulder pads. And it’s an original. Whoever buys that costume will never see another woman in the same outfit. Get one from C and A or Marks and Sparks, and you’re likely to go somewhere like a wedding and come face to face with a woman in the same thing.’

She smiled. ‘It can be dead embarrassing, particularly if she’s got a better figure than you. Anyroad, this time next year, the High Street shops will be bursting with costumes just like the one you wanted, but they’ll only cost seven guineas, not seventy-five. What’s your name, luv? And what department are you on? I’m Judy Channon, by the way.’

‘I’m Queenie Tate and I’m on Books.’

‘With the boss’s son, eh? I understand he smokes about a hundred fags a day.’

‘Something like that,’ Queenie admitted.

‘Have you had anything to eat, luv?’

‘Not yet.’

‘The buffet’s over there. Help yourself before it all goes. There’s wine an’

all, red or white. I was just on me way to the Ladies when I saw you, but I’m sitting with me friends on the table nearest the band. Come and join us if you want.’

‘Thanks, I’d love to.’

Judy Channon was back at the table by the time Queenie arrived with an assortment of sandwiches, a sausage roll, and a glass of white wine. She was introduced to the other women there. ‘This is Edie, that’s Gladys – she thinks she’s better than us ’cos she works in Accounts – that’s Brenda wearing the glasses, and Mona’s the one with the grey hair. We’re known as the War Widows’

Club. Our husbands were killed in the war, so we always have plenty of shoulders to cry on when one of us feels low.’

‘Couldn’t you pick something better than me grey hair to point me out by?’ Mona complained. ‘Me nice blue eyes, for instance, or me nails. I had a manicure yesterday. What d’you think?’ She flared her hands and everybody admired the bright pink nails. ‘Did you know the female staff can use the hairdresser’s and the manicurist for free, Queenie? The beauty salon’s on the fifth floor. It stays open till eight o’clock three nights a week, just for us. They’ll even do you in your lunch hour if they’re not busy. Not only that, the staff restaurant stays open till seven, so’s you can get a cheap meal if you want to go out straight from work.’

‘Miss James told me.’

‘You couldn’t get a better boss than Theo Vandos,’ Mona said fondly. ‘He doesn’t deserve that cow of a wife, or those two bitchy daughters.’

‘Is he here?’ Queenie asked. So far, she hadn’t set eyes on Mr Theo or the man she’d spoken to in Miss James’s office whom she’d very much like to meet again.

‘Not yet. Oh! Here he is now! Come on, girls. Give him a big cheer.’ Mona jumped to her feet and started to clap.

The music stopped and a man entered the room, a small, dapper man in evening dress, very slim, with luminous eyes and black hair. His bow tie was perhaps a mite too big and he showed too much white cuff. Queenie felt herself go cold. Mr Theo and the man she’d already met were one and the same. He’d asked why she was laughing, and she’d asked if he worked there!

‘Yes,’ he’d said modestly, not admitting he was the owner.

She comforted herself with the thought that he would have forgotten her by now, that he wouldn’t even recognise her if he saw her again. He had a girl on either side, linking their arms, whom she took to be his daughters – his bitchy daughters, according to Mona. The tallest was outstandingly beautiful, with a great mane of jet black hair, big dark eyes, and a perfect mouth painted scarlet. She wore a stiff cream taffeta frock, ankle-length, with a swirling skirt, and an emerald green velvet bolero. A diamond necklace glittered around her slender neck, which Queenie would like to bet hadn’t come from Woollies as had her own.

Perhaps it was because her sister was so lovely that the other girl appeared so nondescript. She looked about fifteen, round-shouldered and very thin. Her hair had been cut unflatteringly short, and she would have looked much better in a plain frock, rather than the frilly pink creation she wore.

Neither girl was smiling. The tall one, whom Queenie presumed was Lila, looked downright sulky. Steven had said she hadn’t wanted her party held in the shop this time.

Steven followed his father and sisters, accompanied by a striking woman in royal blue chiffon who could only be Mrs Vandos. Her black hair was drawn severely back from her haughty face and twisted into a tight knot on top of her well-shaped head. She looked no more pleased to be there than did her daughters and reminded Queenie of the wicked queen in Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, which she’d taken Hester and Mary to see when they’d lived in Southport. In pleasant contrast, Steven grinned at everyone in sight. He caught Queenie’s eye and winked. She pretended not to notice.

Theo Vandos made a short speech. People had to strain to hear his soft voice. He said he was glad to have the opportunity of sharing another family celebration with the staff of Freddy’s. ‘I like to think of us as one big happy family. Now, if everyone would like to stay where they are, the waiters will come round with a glass of champagne. Could we please have the cake?’

An enormous white and silver cake was wheeled in, white candles fluttering. With ill grace, Lila blew out the candles and cut the first slice, to the accompaniment of polite applause. Waiters swiftly distributed the champagne, while two others deftly cut the cake into small pieces and took them round to the guests. The band were playing ‘Happy Birthday to You’, but not very loudly.

When everyone had been served, the elderly man with rheumy eyes who served in the Furniture department, presented Lila with a gold chain from the staff. Theo Vandos raised his own glass of champagne. ‘Many happy returns, Lila,’ he said with almost a sigh in his voice. The band burst into a rowdy version of ‘Twenty-one Today’, and the guests joined in, more for Mr Theo’s sake than the surly Lila’s.

‘No wonder he wants us all to be one big happy family, when his own are such a shower,’ Mona said. ‘Steven’s all right, but he’s a bit of a playboy.’

Queenie didn’t want to betray what might have been a confidence and tell them that Steven wanted to be an actor. ‘Vandos is an unusual name,’ she said. ‘I’ve never heard it before.’

‘That’s because it’s Greek, luv,’ Brenda explained. ‘Mr Theo’s dad came to Liverpool from Greece at the turn of the century. He started off with a market stall and within ten years had taken over Freddy’s. He died just before the war.’

‘I believe you promised me a dance, Queenie.’ Steven was by the table, hand outstretched. The band were playing ‘You Were Never Lovelier’.

‘Excuse me,’ Queenie muttered to the women. ‘I wish you hadn’t asked,’ she said to Steven when they were on the floor.

‘Why not?’ He looked surprised.

‘I don’t like being made to look special, dancing with the boss’s son, like.’

‘In that case, I’ll ask that grey-haired woman who was sitting by you next.

What’s her name?’

‘Mona. She’s a widow, so be nice to her.’

‘I’m nice to everyone. Is it all right if I ask you for every other dance?’

She rolled her eyes. ‘Can’t you share yourself out a bit more?’

‘The truth is, Queenie,’ he said meekly, ‘I’m basically terribly shy and you’re the only person here I know.’

‘Liar! You’ve been here months. You must know loads of people.’

‘You’re the only young person I know.’

‘That’s not true, either.’

‘You’re the only young, pretty person I know. What’s more, you’re a girl. Have I convinced you yet?’

‘I suppose.’ She knew he was only flirting and his words meant nothing. When he got home, where the party would continue, he would probably say the same things to someone else.

‘What do you think of the family?’ he asked.

‘They seem very nice.’

‘Nice! Who’s being the liar now? Dad apart, they’re a ghastly crew. It must be obvious that Lila and Stephanie hate each other and Mum hates Dad.’

‘Why? Oh, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.’

‘That’s all right,’ Steven said cheerfully. ‘In its own way, it’s something of a Greek tragedy. Lila is jealous of Steph’s brains, and Steph envies Lila’s looks.

Mum hates Dad for too many reasons to list.’

‘That’s terrible. Mind you, my mam hated me.’ It must be the wine mixed with the champagne. Ordinarily, she wouldn’t have dreamed of revealing anything so personal.

‘Whatever for?’ he asked, shocked.

‘For being me. I was ugly, useless, stupid. In her eyes, anyroad.’

‘Your mother must be mad. Introduce me to her and I’ll tell her how mad she is.’

‘She’s not around any more. She went away when I was fourteen and I’ve been dead happy living with Laura ever since.’

‘Good for Laura, whoever she may be.’

Queenie described Laura and told him she had, sort of, met his father many years ago. ‘She and her husband Roddy were having lunch here and he sent them a bottle of wine. It was only days before the war began.’

‘I’ll remind Dad. He’ll probably remember. He remembers everything to do with the shop.’

They had danced past his father several times. He watched them with dark, brooding eyes. The family were sitting together on a table in the corner, not speaking to each other. Steven seemed the only one having a good time.

The dance finished. The atmosphere had warmed up considerably, and there was no longer an awkward crowd inside the door. It was announced that the next dance would be the Gay Gordons and people poured on to the floor, stamping their feet enthusiastically, enjoying themselves. Steven dutifully asked up a flustered Mona, then returned to Queenie for the next dance.

‘If you play your cards right,’ Judy said some time later, ‘you could end up married to the next owner of Freddy’s.’

Queenie explained there was no chance of that because by this time next week her fiancé would have been demobbed. Steven had charm, but he hadn’t an ounce of Jimmy’s character.

When the war ended, Tess and Pete Nicholls had returned to Liverpool from Caerdovey and gone straight into a children’s home in Fazakerly. Tess was now twelve. For Pete, eight, Liverpool was just a far-off memory.

Vera Monaghan, all heart as usual, had wanted to take the ‘poor little mites’, but Albert had put his foot down, reminding her that once the lads were home she’d have a houseful, that she would be sixty next year and it was about time she put her feet up and, finally, that Tess Nicholls was anything but a little mite and he’d heard she was a difficult girl to get along with.

‘I don’t want a repeat of the situation we had with Iris when she first came.

Anyroad, the home’s only temporary. Once their brother’s back, he’ll have them out like a shot.’

This came as a relief to Mary, who couldn’t stand Tess. Even Hester was pleased that Tess wouldn’t be living across the street, temporarily or not.

Mr Iles, who now collected the rent in place of the sadly missed Edgar Binns, had been asked if he would please let Queenie know if a property should fall vacant. Once Jimmy was back, he wanted his family together again as soon as possible. Mr Iles promised to do his best, but Bootle had lost so many houses in the raids it was rare anything became available. If it did, it was snapped up straight away.

Queenie had been to see Tess and Pete once a month on Sunday afternoons. She would have gone more often if it had only been Pete. He was a nice little boy with a sweet disposition but, with the years, Tess had become even more belligerent. Her mousy brown hair was plaited into two stiff pigtails, which seemed to bristle when her anger was at its height. Always needing somone to blame for her misfortunes, her rage was, most unreasonably, directed at her brother, as if it were Jimmy who’d started the war, bombed the house in which her parents had been killed, then joined the Army to avoid looking after her and Pete, so they’d been left to rot in Caerdovey for years, until being put in a home, which she hated.

‘Jimmy had no choice but to join the Army,’ Queenie told her angrily, wanting to wrap the pigtails around her neck and give them a good tug. Jimmy loved his little brother and sister and had always done his very best by them. What’s more, although Tess had had a hard life, at twelve, Queenie’s own life had been far harder. She had little patience with the girl. Her mind crept forward, just a little, beyond her wedding day, and she tried to imagine what it would be like, living with Tess and her tantrums. At least her own presence would make things easier for Jimmy.