Annie Groves

The Mersey Daughter: A heartwarming Saga full of tears and triumph


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see you tomorrow morning, then?’ Rita got up to go home, even though she’d rather have stayed in her mother’s kitchen to carry on the lively conversation. ‘Thanks, Violet, you don’t know what a relief it is to have your help.’

      ‘Think nothing of it!’ Violet insisted, and gave one of her braying laughs, which even after all these months made Rita’s ears ring. But she’d happily put up with that for the comfort of knowing the shop wasn’t going to be left in Winnie’s increasingly incapable hands.

      ‘What about Georgie?’ demanded Nancy, pouting at being sidelined yet again. ‘I was going to ask you if you could have him overnight and tomorrow morning, then I’d come round to pick him up. Do I have to change my plans?’

      ‘Plans? What plans?’ Rita paused on her way out. ‘You didn’t say anything, Nancy.’ Privately she thought for the thousandth time that her younger sister didn’t know how lucky she was. She could play with her beautiful, healthy son every day, watching him change and grow before her eyes: he was walking with increasing confidence and beginning to learn their names. Here he was now, just about managing to toddle towards her, holding out his arms, saying ‘ri-ri-ri’, which was as close as he could get to Rita. She bent down to hug him. He was adorable – why didn’t his mother want to look after him? Rita held him close, savouring the smell of his soft hair, which reminded her of her own children when they were that age. She sent up a silent prayer for their safety. Even though she knew they were well and happy, every day without them was like a blow to her heart.

      ‘Oh honestly, I’ve told you all of this before.’ Nancy rolled her eyes. ‘You know very well that Gloria’s coming home. She’s been a big success in London and now she’s going on tour. She’s coming to Liverpool today and I’m going to go and meet her. They’re putting her up at the Adelphi! I’m not going to miss that!’

      ‘Well, that’s a change from the Sailor’s Rest and no mistake,’ observed Dolly, who was fond of Gloria even though she’d got a reputation for being fast. ‘I hope she’s going to make some time to visit her parents in all of this high life. They won’t have seen her for ages.’

      ‘Oh, she’s bound to,’ Nancy lied. Gloria’s parents weren’t like Dolly and Pop. Mr and Mrs Arden were more bothered by how well their pub was doing than what their only daughter got up to. ‘Mam, you’ll take Georgie, won’t you? He loves being here, look at him now. It’s his favourite place in the world.’ She wondered if she was laying it on a bit thick, but she could usually persuade her mother, and it was true that George liked nothing better than to stay at his granny’s.

      Dolly regarded her most troublesome child with a baleful air, in full knowledge that she was being taken advantage of, but she could never stay cross with her for long. ‘Oh, all right then,’ she said. ‘But make sure you behave yourself, young lady. I won’t have you being the talk of the street.’ Nancy pursed her lips at her mother but wisely kept any backchat to herself. The business with Stan Hathaway was still a sore spot between them and she didn’t want to risk any curtailment of her night out.

      ‘Here, Rita,’ Dolly said, ‘you get off and give the boy to me. Are you sure you won’t take some lettuce? I picked it myself; it’s one of the first things that’s come up in the victory garden. All thanks to your clever idea of using spare panes of glass from the bomb site to make little greenhouses, Violet.’

      ‘That’s a good idea. In fact, why don’t I drop some off at Danny’s?’ Rita asked. She knew that Danny would be grateful for the salad, as he would never think to buy it for himself. Moreover, letters had begun to arrive at his house from Jack, and she was desperate to hear his news.

      ‘Of course, what a kind idea.’ Dolly beamed at her eldest daughter’s thoughtfulness. ‘There’s plenty for both of you.’

      ‘Just make sure you wash it – we wouldn’t want Winnie to choke on a slug,’ Nancy added.

      Rita tucked the precious letter into the waistband of her skirt and buttoned her coat over it to hide any tell-tale bulge. It would be foolish to go to all the trouble of getting the letters sent to her neighbour only for Winnie to spot her smuggling one back into the shop to read, and she knew the older woman would take full advantage of anything she regarded as stepping out of line. However, even the thought of Winnie’s malevolence couldn’t dampen Rita’s anticipation – she’d waited too long to feel that moment of connection with Jack. Just to see his beloved handwriting made her feel less alone.

      Pushing open the door to the living quarters, she was surprised to find Ruby going through to the kitchen. Her startling blonde hair was bright in the early evening sunlight. Ruby jumped, nervous as ever.

      ‘Ohhhhh.’ Her voice shook. ‘It’s you, Rita. I’m … I’m glad it’s you.’

      ‘Of course it’s me. Who else would it be?’ Rita smiled reassuringly as she put down her basket and unpacked it. ‘See what I’ve got from Mam, Ruby. I could make us a nice sandwich. Would you like that? Maybe with some Branston pickle? That’s what I’m going to have.’ She drew out an enamel colander from one of the cupboards above the sink and began to pull off some lettuce leaves to wash.

      Ruby nodded, but didn’t seem convinced. Finally she plucked up the courage to say what was on her mind. ‘The strange men were back today.’ She trembled. ‘I hid away. I don’t like it when they come; their voices feel funny.’

      Rita paused at the sink. ‘What men, Ruby? Don’t worry, I won’t blame you for anything. Tell me what happened.’

      The young woman wrung her hands. ‘They were angry. They shouted at Winnie. They said bad things. It was loud, I was scared.’

      ‘What things, Ruby? Did they threaten Winnie? Were they the police?’

      ‘They … maybe not … a bit like the police, but different uniforms.’ Ruby looked helpless. ‘They said … military police. That was it. They said she had to tell them where he was.’

      Rita cast her eyes heavenwards. She had known it almost before Ruby began to speak – it was about Charlie again. Her useless deserting husband still hadn’t faced up to his duty and joined up. Now the authorities were after him good and proper. She’d been lucky that they’d come when she was out; despite her hatred of Charlie, the fact that they were all being dragged through the mud along with him was excruciating. She had nothing to hide and had done nothing wrong – but the powerful shame of knowing her husband was a complete and utter coward was enough to drive her to the depths of despair.

      ‘They won’t hurt you, Ruby.’ She tried to keep her voice level; there was no sense in making Ruby more frightened than she already was. ‘They just want to find where Charlie is. And since we don’t know, we can’t tell them anything useful.’

      ‘Charlie’s a bad man!’ Ruby suddenly burst out. ‘He was mean to me. I don’t like him. He took Elsie to the pub all the time, and he shut Michael and Megan away without their supper.’

      Rita’s heart turned over at the thought of her children going hungry at their father’s hands, but she steeled herself. They were better fed now than they’d ever been in their lives. She mustn’t let it upset her further. ‘You’re right, Ruby,’ she said. ‘He’s not a nice man, but he’s not here, so we’ll be all right. Why don’t you pass me the bread and I’ll make those sandwiches. You shouldn’t let it worry you. After all, it’s ages since they last came looking for him.’

      Ruby paused as she lifted the loaf from the bread bin. ‘It’s six weeks and two days,’ she said. ‘Also, they came at two o’clock last time and this time it was half past three.’

      ‘Really, Ruby?’ Rita thought that this was a strange thing to remember, especially as the young woman had been so frightened. ‘You’ve got a good memory. I never know when things have happened or how long ago. I don’t think many people do.’

      Ruby looked at her seriously. ‘Well I do,’ she said shortly. ‘I see patterns. I know these things. If you need to know then you ask me. I don’t forget.’