Read Queen of the Mersey Online

Authors: Maureen Lee

Tags: #Thrillers, #Fiction, #War & Military

Queen of the Mersey (63 page)

BOOK: Queen of the Mersey
11.12Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

How could she? ‘No,’ she said.

Roddy smiled bitterly. ‘Laura.’

Chapter 21

NEW YEAR’S EVE

It was the last day of Freddy’s’ last sale and the shop had never been so crowded in its one hundred and one years. Full page adverts in the Echo every day, offering all sorts of enticing bargains, had brought in thousands of shoppers. There was hardly room to move between the counters, some of which were almost bare and had been for days. One of the most popular was Haberdashery in the basement, where women, mainly elderly, had been eagerly stocking up on embroidery silk and tapestry wool that were going for coppers. The last remaining skeins were now in a near impenetrable ravel that a couple of grey-haired customers were patiently trying to undo.

On the glittering, lavishly decorated ground floor, scarves were piled high in a vivid mountain of silk and wool, taffeta and filmy chiffon, like something out of an Arabian bazaar. Every now and then, someone would tug an end and find someone tugging the other. There’d been a few fights, not just over scarves –

the shoe department had seen some heated arguments when one customer had found the right shoe, another the left, and neither was willing to give up their shoe.

The matter was usually settled by the toss of a coin. A strong scent of expensive perfume hung in the air as passers-by liberally sprayed themselves with the demonstration bottles. No one noticed a yellow kid glove that had lost its mate being kicked around the floor.

The stock room on the fifth floor had been cleared and the staff were amazed at what had been found in the dusty corners; cardboard boxes, forty, fifty, years old, containing flesh-pink lace-up corsets, thick flannel nightdresses, lisle stockings, knee-length, lock-knit knickers, long velvet evening gloves without fingers. There were clothes with a Utility sign, acquired during the war, a long time out of fashion, but perfectly wearable nowadays when hems could be any length. Indeed, Queenie had found a brown tweed coat that was almost identical to a Jean Patou model that had come out only a year ago. It had fitted Hester perfectly.

Ladies’ clothes had sold the fastest of all. Now the racks were almost empty and there was nothing left to put on them.

The bulk of the customers on the final day were women, on the prowl for cheap buys, or come for a last, nostalgic look around Freddy’s, the shop where they had bought their wedding dress and trousseau and from where the bridegroom had hired his morning suit and top hat. Later, they’d come for their children’s school uniforms and sports equipment; hockey sticks, cricket bats, tennis rackets, balls for every conceivable sort of game. The shop had played an important part in their lives.

A few people were collectors, interested in cards of pretty pearl buttons, stockings with flocked patterns on the heel, forties’ evening bags, all unearthed from the stockroom and still showing their original prices; 9d, 1/11˝d, 10/6d.

The younger customers were there for the first time, to take a look around the place that had once been a local landmark and was now about to close. They’d never been before; it was too old-fashioned and way beyond their means. Not today, though. They found themselves snapping up all sorts of unusual bargains.

Only a few men were present, dragged there by their wives, and taken to the Men’s Department, where lambswool pullovers and comfortable baggy underpants were being sold for next to nothing. The loose-fitting overcoats and check suits that had looked distinctly prewar had already gone, snapped up by younger men who considered them trendy. The floor now had a deserted air.

‘See what I’ve got!’ Hester opened the familiar black and white striped bag with ‘Freddy’s’ in gold and showed Mary the contents. ‘Loads of stuff for Annie, really cute baby clothes we’d never have been able to afford at the full price, three pairs of overalls and some Tshirts for Evan. I’ve got stuff for Ned and some nighties for myself. They’re in Queenie’s office, where I’m about to dump this lot, they’re ever so heavy. It’s an advantage, being able to leave your shopping with the owner.’

‘It won’t be an advantage for long. Excuse me a minute, Hes.’ Mary went to attend to a customer who wanted to buy a bright red handbag in soft, squashy leather – extra staff had been taken on for the Sales and Mary had jumped at the chance.

‘You can’t get coloured handbags for love nor money these days,’ the customer gushed. ‘They’re nearly always black. I haven’t seen a red one in ages. Same with shoes.’ She paid and rushed off to the shoe department to see if she could find shoes to match.

‘Me legs aren’t half aching,’ Mary complained when she returned. ‘We’ve been worked off our feet for days. We even came in Sunday to give the place a good tidy up. Today’s the busiest yet. Still, there’s not long left to go. How’s Annie?’

‘Coming along, putting on weight, but only slowly. Ned’s looking after her and Evan. He managed to get home from work a bit early.’

‘Well, she was a whole month premature, wasn’t she? In reality, she’s only five weeks old, not nine. Why didn’t you call her Laura, like you said?’ she asked curiously. ‘I didn’t like to ask in front of Ned in case there’d been an argument.’

‘Oh, no, there was no argument, just that Queenie said Daddy was a bit upset when he heard, so we called her Annie instead. It was second on our list of favourite names.’

‘It’s not suprising your dad was upset. Half a mo.’ Mary went to attend to another customer. She was looking far more cheerful today, Hester thought. The month at Freddy’s had done her good. Things had been tough at home between her and Duncan since Flora had moved out. She ducked when a woman passed behind, half a dozen bulging bags held aloft, and she was nearly decapitated. She still felt a bit tired, what with the Caesarean and worry over Annie. Pushing her way through the crowded shop didn’t help, but she wouldn’t have missed this historic day for anything. She had to be home by four. Annie was on the bottle and the breast and, as Ned had pointed out, he could manage one, but wasn’t equipped to manage the other.

Mary came back. ‘Was it your dad who called the wedding off, or Queenie? I’ve been dying to know.’

‘I don’t know either. They won’t talk about it. Dad’s been dead miserable for weeks, so I suspect it was Queenie.’

Queenie had already been for half a dozen excursions around the shop, giving a hand in places where the staff looked overwhelmed. Now she was back in her office, alone, with absolutely nothing to do; no letters to write, phone calls to make, catalogues to look at, buyers to see, no one to talk to – most of the office staff were helping behind the counters. The only people busy were in the cash office; tills were being emptied every hour and the contents counted and taken to the bank. After the banks had closed, the money would go in the night safe. Business had been brisker than anyone had expected and she felt guilty, sitting behind the desk that used to be Theo’s, and finding nothing she could do.

As from midnight, Freddy’s would no longer belong to her, but to the developers who’d made the first offer, which had turned out to be the highest. By this time next year, the building might have been demolished for a multi-storey car park or, if the Council insisted the original façade remain, it could be on its way to becoming flats.

She had vaguely thought of buying one of the flats, but had dismissed the idea straight away. It would be a sad place to live, full of too many memories, even if they were mainly happy ones. She had no idea exactly where she would live in Liverpool, but intended to spend a few months in Kythira before making up her mind. Eventually, she would return, because Liverpool was in her blood. And it was where her friends were; friends like Hester and Mary who had become more like family over the years.

Hester entered the room at that very moment. She looked weary. ‘I’ve come to leave this bag with the others. I’ve had a marvellous time buying all this stuff, but I think I’d better stop and have a coffee before I drop.’

‘I’ll come with you,’ Queenie said with alacrity. ‘If the truth be known, I don’t know what to do with myself.’

‘Ned sent his novel to a publisher this morning,’ Hester said shyly. ‘He finished it on Boxing Day. It took him nearly five years.’

‘Wish him the best luck in the world from me. I hope it becomes a bestseller.

Had things gone differently, we’d have stocked them in Freddy’s and he could have come and signed them.’

The restaurant was crowded – cream teas seemed very popular. They managed to find a table by the window. It was a miserable day outside. A dirty mist hung in the air and the sky was the colour of mud. Down below, on Hanover Street, people were hurrying by, laden with carrier bags, quite a few of them Freddy’s.

‘You’re practically giving things away,’ Hester remarked.

‘We had an offer for the goods left over, but it was so miserly, I decided I’d sooner let everything go for next to nothing. At four o’clock, prices will go down even more. We’re closing at five.’

Hester wrinkled her nose. ‘I’m afraid I can’t wait till then. Four is when Annie’s due for a feed.’

‘I’ll wander around later,’ Queenie offered, ‘pick you up some things, on the house, as it were. I’ll enjoy that and I’ll get some stuff for Mary too. This week, she’s been a brick, like all the staff. They’ve worked like Trojans.’

‘I understand you’re giving them all a bonus.’

‘They deserve it,’ Queenie said warmly. ‘Everyone’s getting a basic hundred pounds on top of their wages, with an extra ten for each year they’ve been here.’

‘You’re being awfully generous, Queenie.’

Queenie’s smile was a touch bitter. ‘Who better to be generous with than the staff of Freddy’s? I’ve no one of my own, have I?’

A waitress arrived, she looked ninety if a day. ‘Oh, hello, Miss Tate. I didn’t realise you were here. Sorry about the wait, but we’re dead busy.’

‘So I can see, Lily. Can we have two coffees, please? Would you like anything to eat, Hester?’

‘Actually, I think I’d prefer a cream tea, they look delicious. It’ll be my last opportunity, won’t it?’

‘Coffee and a cream tea then, Lily. She’s been here since the year dot,’ Queenie said when Lily had departed. ‘I wouldn’t have minded a cream tea myself, but I’ve had terrible indigestion lately.’ She patted her stomach. ‘My tummy feels like a balloon and I apologise in advance if I burp. I’ve kept meaning to see the doctor, but we’ve been so busy.’

‘Actually, your tummy does look a bit swollen. But you’ll have time to see the doctor now, won’t you?’

‘Not that much time. I’m flying to Kythira on Saturday.’

‘But you will see a doctor before you go?’ Hester urged anxiously. ‘I couldn’t stand it if you were ill.’

‘I will, I promise.’

‘I wish you and Daddy were still getting married,’ Hester said sadly. ‘That would have been Saturday too. I was looking forward to having you as my stepmother.’ She smiled wryly. ‘Mary was terribly jealous. We used to fight over you like mad when we were little.’

‘I remember – I was very flattered.’

‘Is there absolutely no chance of you and Daddy getting back together?’

Queenie shrugged. ‘You’ll have to ask your dad that, not me.’

‘But I thought it was you who jilted him!’ Hester gasped. ‘He’s looked so unhappy since it happened.’

Lily had returned. ‘One cream tea, one coffee,’ she said. ‘And good luck for the future, Miss Tate. We’re not likely to speak to each other again.’

‘Good luck to you, Lily.’ Queenie got to her feet and gave the elderly woman a kiss. ‘It’s been lovely knowing you. I’m not sure if I can get through today without dissolving into buckets of tears,’ she said when she sat down again.

‘I’ve lost count of the number of people I’ve kissed so far.’

‘About Daddy,’ Hester began.

‘If you have any questions, love, I told you, ask him.’

Fifteen minutes later, after Hester had gone to see if there were any clothes left in her size, Queenie sipped the coffee, cold by now, and remembered the night Annie had been born. ‘I can’t go through with it, Queenie,’ Roddy had said wildly. ‘I can’t marry you, not after what I did to Laura. It would always be on my conscience and it wouldn’t be fair on you.’

‘I’m the one who should be the judge of that, and I think you’re being unreasonable – with yourself as well as me. To put it bluntly, I also think you’re being stupid, dead stupid,’ she emphasised. ‘It’s about time you pulled yourself together. If you hadn’t found that damned book, none of this would have happened.’ She couldn’t even remember its name.

He sighed tragically. ‘It’s nothing to do with the book. I’ll never forget the cruel thing I said until my dying day.’

‘We all do and say things we don’t mean from time to time,’ she said, trying to keep the impatience out of her voice. ‘Look at me! I slept with you less than amonth after Theo died. Not only that, I enjoyed it no end. How do you think that makes me feel?’ she asked indignantly. ‘Awful! But I’m sure Theo wouldn’t have wanted me to mope for the rest of my life, and I’m equally sure Laura, the old Laura, wouldn’t have wanted you to do the same.’

‘It’s no good, darling. It’s no good.’

She stopped trying to reason with him. She had no intention of talking any man, not even Roddy Oliver, into getting married, and most definitely not a man still deeply involved with another woman – a woman who was dead. If this was the decision he’d come to, then the matter was closed – unless one day he changed his mind, saw sense. She suspected he was having a long-delayed breakdown and it was best to leave him until he snapped out of it, something he could only do himself, without help from anyone.

That was two months ago and she still hadn’t heard from him. Oh, but she missed him! She had visualised blissful years ahead with Roddy at her side. Her body ached for him at night, in bed, alone. During the day, every now and then, she would be overcome with a mixture of longing and rage; wanting him one minute, angry the next that he wasn’t prepared to let her share his private torment, talk it through.

The restaurant was still crowded and she was taking up a table. She went downstairs to look for clothes for Evan and Annie. There were a few pretty frocks left, too big for Annie now, but would do for when she was older. She chose three, all different, some little frilly pants, a duffel coat for Evan, also too big, two Fair Isle jumpers, and an assortment of grey and white socks.

BOOK: Queen of the Mersey
11.12Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Damned by Logic by Jeffrey Ashford
Hunter's Moon by John Townsend
Captive Surrender by Mooney, Linda
The Revealers by Doug Wilhelm
Under the Volcano by Malcolm Lowry
Letting Go by Philip Roth
Sourcery by Pratchett, Terry