Queen of the Mersey (30 page)

‘That makes the whole day feel worthwhile,’ she said to Queenie later. ‘Pretty soon, Fleur will only show in London and Mr Carter won’t need to travel the country with his lovely designs. In the meantime, he needs encouragement. That’s why I didn’t barter over the price.’

‘The styles were very slimming. Why doesn’t he make them in the larger sizes?’

Queenie asked curiously.

‘Because women with thirty-six hips consider themselves a different breed from those with forty-six hips. They wouldn’t be seen dead in anything that was also available for the larger figure. Come on, dear. Who’s next? Mr Carter didn’t offer us a drink, did he?’

By one o’clock, Miss Hurst had consumed thirteen glasses of sherry, yet was still able to walk and talk like a perfectly sober human being, though her mascara had smudged and her nose was shining like a beacon. She’d been asked to lunch in the hotel dining room by one of the manufacturers, but Queenie hadn’t been invited. ‘You can pop along to Lyon’s for a bite to eat. Have you enough money?’

‘Plenty thanks.’ Queenie couldn’t have eaten so much as a biscuit. She was too excited. The day was turning out to be the best of her life. In the Adelphi lounge, crammed with little groups of buyers and designers all jabbering away to each other at ten to the dozen, she sank into an armchair and thought blissfully about the morning. She’d met so many interesting people and had learnt things about the fashion trade she’d never known before. She hadn’t realised that, mainly in London, hundreds of firms beavered away in cellars and attics, paying their seamstresses peanuts, only managing to stay in business by the skin of their teeth, going to the wall if they misjudged a trend and ploughed a large part of their capital into lines such as military-style coats that women wouldn’t want.

Evangelina’s coats wouldn’t go to waste, Miss Hurst had said. Eventually, they’d be sold at half-price to small, out-of-town shops whose clientele knew nothing about the latest fashions and just wanted a new coat. But it meant the firm’s expected profit would be grossly reduced. ‘It’s their own fault. They just don’t think ahead.’

‘Are Fleur’s frocks fashionable?’ Queenie asked.

‘No, but they’re not unfashionable either. They have their own distinctive style. They’ll be bought by women who want to look different, stand out from the crowd, but can’t afford the latest Parisian designs. It’s something a buyer has to take a chance on, ordering from a designer no one’s heard of, yet he or she is bucking the trend and coming up with clothes that are quite unique. Mind you,’ she sniffed, ‘I’ve come a cropper more than once, bought things I thought would sell like hot cakes, but it turned out I was quite wrong.’

‘I’m sure Fleur’s frocks will sell like hot cakes.’ She wouldn’t have minded one herself.

‘If they don’t, I’ll kick myself, and Mr Theo won’t be too pleased. If a few haven’t sold within the first fortnight, they’ll be put in the stockroom for the winter sales. He won’t have clothes left hanging around that customers clearly don’t like.’

Mr Theo! She caught her breath. ‘It’s obvious, he fancies you,’ Vera had said.

‘Don’t be silly,’ she’d laughed, and Laura had accused Vera of having a dirty mind.

‘Then why has Miss James got all snotty with her?’ Vera demanded.

‘I don’t know,’ Laura said. ‘You tell me.’

‘Because she’s jealous, that’s why. She’d know, more than anyone, if Mr Theo’s taken a special interest in our Queenie. Why did he chuck this old geezer off the book department and put Queenie with Steven?’

‘I don’t know that, either,’ Laura said stiffly.

‘So he could pump Steven for information about her.’

‘Oh, Vera! Pump Steven! Your imagination knows no bounds.’

‘How else did he know about Jimmy?’

Laura fell silent and regarded Queenie solemnly. ‘You’d better be careful,’ she said after a while.

But now, sitting in the Adelphi lounge, gradually emptying as people went to lunch, Queenie was experiencing a desperate ferment in her stomach, as if little puffs of smoke were swirling around inside, getting hotter and hotter at the idea that Mr Theo might find her attractive. It was a delightful, incredibly pleasant sensation.

Added to which, that morning, a door had opened through which she’d glimpsed an entirely different world from the one she’d always known; a busy, enthralling, colourful world that she was determined to be part of. ‘But what about Jimmy?’ a little voice asked.

There wasn’t the opportunity to answer the question as the disturbing, turbulent thoughts were interrupted by a glum voice saying, ‘Hello.’

She looked up and saw Mr Travis of Evangelina Fashions standing in front of her.

‘Hello,’ she said.

‘I invited a buyer to lunch, but she’s let me down, gone with someone else. As I’ve booked a table for two, would you care to share it with me?’

At the offer of a free meal, her appetite returned like a shot. ‘I’d love to.

Thank you very much.’

‘I know we were introduced, but I’ve forgotten your name.’

‘Queenie Tate. Call me Queenie.’ He wasn’t much older than she was.

‘I’m Geoffrey Travis.’ They shook hands and proceeded into the dining room, where they ordered tomato soup followed by steak and kidney pudding with new potatoes.

Over the soup, he complained he’d had a miserable morning. His job was to buy the material for men’s suits. The woman who should have come to the showing had caught something ghastly like chicken pox and he’d been sent in her place. ‘I thought those coats looked all right, but then, what do I know about such things? I haven’t sold a single Patricia and your Miss Hurst is the only person to order any Daisies. None of the other stuff has gone well, either.’

‘You know what I’d do with the Patricia?’ Queenie said, imagining how he would feel next week when the order was cancelled.

‘Don’t tell me.’ He shuddered. ‘It’s bound to be rude.’

‘It’s not rude at all. What I’d do is take off the epaulettes, remove the brass buttons, and put self-coloured buttons in their place, though not on the sleeves. Then it’ll be just an ordinary, double-breasted coat with nothing about it to remind women of the war. Meself, I thought it rather a nice, cheerful colour, perfect for autumn when the nights start drawing in and people feel a bit low because winter’s coming.’

‘You’re obviously an expert at this sort of thing,’ Mr Travis said appreciatively. ‘Any ideas for the Daisy?’

Queenie put a hand to her brow and closed her eyes. ‘I see it,’ she said in a deep voice, ‘with a dark green collar – a velvet collar and velvet buttons.’

‘Oh, I say. That sounds marvellous.’ He put down his spoon and looked thoughtful. ‘You know, I’ve brought a seamstress with me, mainly to take measurements for special orders, though we haven’t had a single one. She could make those alterations in a jiffy. She’d only need to do two coats to show people.’ His face fell. ‘Except we haven’t got the materials.’

‘Lewis’s department store is only across the street. They’ve got a big haberdashery department.’

‘Queenie Tate, you are an absolute genius. Would you mind terribly if I left you to eat lunch alone? I’ll pay on my way out, of course.’

‘I wouldn’t mind a bit. I’m only too pleased to help.’

She watched him almost run out of the dining room, leaving her feeling extremely pleased with herself. She clearly possessed a talent she hadn’t known she had.

Mr Travis had been gone only a matter of seconds when his place at the table was taken by a most unexpected figure.

‘Good afternoon, Miss Tate,’ Mr Theo said. ‘I wanted to speak to Miss Hurst about something, but she seems otherwise engaged.’

Across the room, the wine waiter was refilling Miss Hurst’s glass. Her lilac turban was askew and her face looked slightly longer and narrower. The thirteen sherries, coupled with the wine, were having an effect at last.

‘Has she been drinking much?’ Mr Theo asked.

‘I hadn’t noticed,’ Queenie said evasively. Did he really want to speak to Miss Hurst? Or was she going mad, thinking that a married man, old enough to be her father, the owner of the biggest shop in Liverpool, might actually have come to see her?

‘You’re very discreet, Miss Tate. By the way, the young man whose fortune you seemed to be telling when I came in, has he gone to throw himself in the Mersey?’

‘Why, no. He’s gone to Lewis’s haberdashery department to buy some materials.’

‘What a relief! I thought that maybe you’d predicted something awful was about to happen.’ His dark eyes twinkled at her across the table. Today, he looked relaxed and quite at ease.

‘I was just telling him what to do with his coats.’

‘In the nicest possible way, I hope?’

‘It was meant in the nicest possible way.’

A waiter arrived with two plates of steak and kidney pudding. ‘I didn’t order this,’ he told the man.

‘It’s all been paid for, Sir.’

‘Oh, well. It seems foolish to let it go to waste.’ He tucked in with obvious enjoyment and Queenie had to kick herself to make sure it was really happening.

Laura didn’t answer Roddy’s letter offering to send her money and repeating his request for a divorce. She was surprised, when, a few weeks later, an envelope arrived containing four five-pound notes. There was no message enclosed.

‘Oh, well,’ she said to Gus. ‘I won’t bother looking for a job.’ Once September came and she started the teacher training course, he would be put into Vera’s care. The year after he would be old enough for school. These few months were the last she’d have him to herself for the entire day. ‘You and me are going to have a good time,’ she told him.

‘Will we go to pubs for pints?’ he asked longingly.

‘No, sweetheart. I’ll think of nicer places for us to go.’

She took him for walks along the Docky, where his bright, curious eyes took in all the wondrous sights; the great funnels of ships looming over the high dock walls, the peculiarly dressed seamen from foreign lands, the endless lorries of all different shapes and sizes, the magnificent carthorses, hooves clip-clopping loudly over the cobbled surface. He remarked on the strange smells, wanted to know why he sometimes couldn’t understand what people were saying.

‘Because they’re not speaking English. I don’t know what they’re saying either.’

On nice days, they went to Southport on the train and had a lemonade in Herriot’s restaurant, the shop where Queenie used to work. She showed him Sea Shells where Hester had lived with Queenie and Mary during the war.

‘Why didn’t I live there too?’

‘Because you weren’t born then.’

‘Why wasn’t I born?’

‘Because, because – oh, look, I can see the fairground from here. Shall we have a go on the bobby horses?’ Some of his questions were unanswerable.

His favourite place was New Brighton. They would sail across the Mersey on the ferry, Laura would make sandwiches and a flask of tea, and they’d picnic on the beach. She took him to the Walker Art Gallery and caught the tram to Sefton Park where he played on the swings and in the fairy glen. Wherever they went, he never ceased to ask questions: What was the sky made of? Why did that man have no hair? But Mum, how could anyone possibly lose their hair? His own was secured to his head quite tightly and there was no way it could get lost. Why couldn’t babies walk when next door’s kittens had walked within a week? Why couldn’t they have a tree in the yard at home? When Laura told him it was because there was no soil, he demanded she got some.

On rainy days, she took him to matinées at the cinema. They saw Meet Me in St Louis and State Fair and other films suitable for children – and Laura thoroughly enjoyed them herself.

She loved Gus so much it hurt, quite literally caused an ache in her chest when she thought how much he meant to her and how devastated she would be if anything happened to him. She realised she was much closer to her son than she had ever been to her daughter, which saddened her. Although Hester had been a self-contained little girl, perhaps she’d had no choice because Laura and Roddy had been too preoccupied with each other. Without realising, they may even have resented the baby girl who’d turned their lives upside down and, somehow, Hester had sensed it. She hoped it wasn’t too late to do something about it, but when the summer holidays came and she tried to arrange days out for just the three of them, Hester insisted Mary come too. At twelve, the two girls were just as inseparable, though there was still resentment between them. Mary was jealous that Hester had a little brother. At the same time she never missed the opportunity of pointing out that her dad hadn’t gone away and never come back, as Hester’s had.

Roddy continued to send twenty pounds each month and she wondered how long it would last – till Hester was old enough to go to work? Till he and Katherine had children and the money was needed for school fees and other expenses? She couldn’t bank on it coming for ever.

She had a letter from Mr Bailey-Oliphant of the Education Training Scheme advising her which books to buy and listing the things she would need; notebooks, pencils, a sharpener, a geometry set and half a dozen cardboard folders. Gus immediately appropriated one in which to keep his important collection of tram, bus and train tickets, and the magnifying glass out of a Christmas cracker through which they were regularly examined.

It was September at last. Laura had her hair cut very short so it would be more manageable, bought a handbag somewhat similar to a school satchel, and made herself a plain black suit and an assortment of blouses so she would look smart at college.

One cloudy, miserable Monday morning, she took her son across the road to Vera’s and kissed him goodbye. She could hardly hold back the tears on the bus taking her to Walton Vale where she would catch another bus to Kirkby, something she would do for the next two years. The thought that at the end of that time she would emerge a fully trained teacher, comforted her somewhat. With a regular wage coming in, her children would never go short of anything. She could leave Glover Street, rent a proper house, perhaps in the countryside, though it would be upsetting to leave Vera. Queenie would come with them, of course, if she wasn’t married to Jimmy by then, though at the rate Jimmy was going, earning a pittance in that garage, it would be years before he could afford to rent a place big enough for the four of them. Not that Queenie seemed to mind the delay, yet it was obvious she loved Jimmy very much. Laura had never known her look so blissfully happy as she’d done over the last few months. She felt quite envious. She knew what it was like to be in love and badly missed it.