The Leaving of Liverpool (10 page)

Phoebe-Ann stuck her head out of the window. The crowd was getting nearer and she could clearly hear the cries and curses. Soon they would be in the thick of it. She began to shake and gnawed nervously on her bottom lip. She was terrified.

Olivia’s confidence was waning as she suddenly realized the consequences of her actions. She hadn’t thought there were so many of them and they did appear to be drunk and some of the curses brought a flush to her cheeks. She had to get away from them! She looked around for an avenue of escape. There was none. In her fright she pushed her foot down hard on the accelerator and the car shot forward, taking them into the front ranks of the mob.

‘This is all your fault!’ she screamed at Phoebe-Ann as the crowd surged around them.

Phoebe-Ann didn’t hear her. She had sunk back against the seat as far away from the rough, villainous faces that were pressing against the windows as possible. She wanted to go home. She wanted to be plain Phoebe-Ann Parkinson again in her dull clothes and with her long hair pinned up under her hat. She wanted her mam and Emily and Jack and Jimmy. She uttered a terrified scream as she felt the cab rock. She heard the sound of breaking glass as the headlights were smashed and a tattoo of blows rained upon the roof. She was rigid with terror.

Then the crowd seemed to be moving on and thinning out and she started to cry in earnest and with relief as she caught sight of the men in dark blue uniforms who charged past, truncheons drawn and flailing, their faces grim.

Olivia screamed at her. ‘You said they were on strike! You stupid little liar!’

Phoebe-Ann sobbed harder. She didn’t care if she was stupid or a liar or anything else. She just wanted to go home.

The door was opened by a burly, bewhiskered policeman. His uniform was torn and dusty, his face streaked with sweat and dust and blood. ‘Are you two all right?’

Olivia swallowed hard and nodded.

‘Then I’d get out of here and as quickly as you can! There’s only a handful of us to protect the whole city and things look like getting worse before the night is over.’

Olivia found her voice. ‘Can . . . can you drive us home, please?’

‘Sorry, luv. There’s not enough of us. I can’t go chasing off and leave the lads. How far are you going?’

‘Upper Huskisson Street.’

‘You’ll be all right. I’ve not heard of any trouble up that way. Just keep driving, don’t stop for anyone and keep to the main roads!’

Olivia stared at his retreating back. Phoebe-Ann’s sobs grated on nerves that were already shredded. ‘For God’s sake! Shut up whingeing! Haven’t I got enough to think about without you having hysterics?’ she yelled. ‘You don’t deserve a penny of the money I spent on you! In fact when we get home you can take all those things off and throw them out! You shan’t have them!’

Phoebe-Ann didn’t answer. She was past caring and in fact had begun to hate the coral dress and the shoes that were pinching her feet.

It was dark when they finally arrived home but both their hearts plummeted when they saw Richard Mercer standing on the front step with Lily, Albert and Emily.

O
LIVIA SUMMED UP BOTH the situation and her predicament in a second. Shaken though she was by the experience, she recognized the stern jut of her father’s chin and the tightly compressed lips as signs of anger that would be vented on her head. She threw her arms around him. ‘Oh, Papa! I’m so glad to get home! I was so scared. I was terrified out of my wits. It was horrible. Horrible!’ Tears of genuine remorse and relief welled up in her eyes.

Richard Mercer patted her. His anger had been mixed with concern and not only for Olivia. In fact it had been the arrival of Lily and Albert with news of the growing unrest that had caused his anxiety. Anxiety that had increased when he heard from Emily that they had gone into town hours ago. ‘You’re safely home now and that’s all that matters.’

Olivia dabbed at her eyes. Now that it was all over she found she was shaking.

‘Where did you get the taxi from and where’s the driver?’ her father questioned.

‘He left us. He ran away and left us at the mercy of those . . . people. I drove home.’ She clung to her father’s arm.

‘We heard there were mobs on the streets. That’s why Mr and Mrs Davies came to see me. You should have come home much earlier . . . We’ve all been worried to death.’ He turned apologetically to Lily and Albert. ‘I’m sorry you’ve been subjected to all this anxiety. I’ll get Edwin to drive you home. It’s safer that way and Phoebe-Ann’s had a nasty experience.’ He was once more in charge of the situation, ushering Olivia inside and into the ministrations of Mrs Webster.

Edwin had heard the whole conversation from where he stood at Emily’s side just inside the hall. He had worked in this house for so many years that he knew that, although shaken, Olivia was manipulating her father, seeking his pity to draw his attention away from the fact that she had been jaunting around town, putting herself and Phoebe-Ann in danger. No-one other than Mr Mercer had spoken so he turned and made for the back of the house to bring the car around.

Emily, too, had been relieved when the car had pulled up and they’d both got out safe and sound. She’d made up her mind to tell Phoebe-Ann just what she thought of her, worrying Mam, but all those thoughts had disappeared when she’d caught sight of her sister. In that split second in the dim light filtering from the hallway, she hadn’t recognized Phoebe-Ann. Then she had gasped. What had Phoebe-Ann done to herself? Where had she got that outfit from? She looked like a socialite and her hair! She’d glanced at her mother’s face but Lily was still overcome with the initial relief that Phoebe-Ann was safe. Emily bit her lip. There was trouble ahead, she was sure of it.

No-one spoke on the short journey to Lonsdale Street. Edwin sensed the tension and asked no questions nor made any cryptic or comical remarks. When they drew up outside the house, Albert helped Lily out and thanked Edwin, commenting that it was a waste of time, effort and petrol to get the car out for such a short journey.

‘Next door’s curtains are twitching,’ Edwin whispered to Emily.

‘I know and there’s a dozen more doing the same thing up the whole street. We could have walked.’

‘Did you see her hair?’

‘I saw what’s left of it. I’ve a feeling Mam will snatch her bald before the night’s out.’

Edwin rolled his eyes and put the car into gear. ‘Sooner you than me! See you tomorrow, Em.’

She watched the car turn the corner, then after studiedly glancing up the street she turned and went indoors.

Jack had taken refuge behind the
Echo
and Jimmy was conspicuous by his absence.

‘Put the kettle on, Em, I think we all need a cup,’ Albert instructed with a knowing look that silenced Emily’s intended questions.

‘Right, madam! Now explain all this away – if you can!’ Lily’s pent-up feelings of anger, relief and outrage burst out as she pushed Phoebe-Ann into the centre of the room and under the full glare of the light.

Phoebe-Ann was near to tears. She wanted comforting, as Miss Olivia had been. She had been through a terrible ordeal and wanted sympathy, soothing words and pats, declarations that nothing mattered except her safety. She shied away from her mother. ‘It was Miss Olivia! It was all her idea, Mam. It was. I swear to God it was. What could I say?’

Lily snatched off the smart little hat and threw it in the general direction of the table. ‘In the name of heaven, look at her! Look at her, Albert.’ Lily caught hold of her daughter’s face and jerked it upwards. ‘You’ve got face powder on and rouge! You little trollop!’

Phoebe-Ann’s tears were making tracks down her cheeks, accentuated by the white powder.

Emily hadn’t noticed the make-up, only the shorn locks. ‘Oh, your hair! Your beautiful hair!’ she cried.

‘I didn’t want it cut! She made me!’ Phoebe-Ann sobbed.

‘Haven’t you a tongue in your head, miss? It wouldn’t have been out of place for you to refuse.’ Lily shook her daughter. ‘You’re not a doll to be dressed and prinked and shown off by Miss Olivia Mercer. She doesn’t own you. She’s made you look cheap, like a floosie. And you let her do it! You bloody little fool!’

Everyone’s eyes were on Lily. She hardly ever swore. It was a measure of the depth of her anger that she did so now.

‘I tried, mam! I did! I said you’d kill me.’

Lily shook her again. ‘Traipsing around town trying to pass yourself off as something you’ll never be . . . a lady. You bold rossi! And where were you until this hour and with the streets crammed with all the riff-raff of the city?’

Phoebe-Ann was sobbing in earnest now. ‘We . . . we went to see over the
Mauretania
. We had a tour.’

Her sobs had no effect on Lily who was consumed with fury that Phoebe-Ann had allowed herself to be patronized by that spoiled Olivia who had no doubt viewed it all as a joke. She had striven hard to bring up both her girls to be modest but here was Phoebe-Ann decked out like a high-class hussy, her face powdered and painted, the calves of her legs on display for all to leer at, prancing around the decks of the
Mauretania
and, no doubt, leaving herself open to more ogling. She raised her hand to slap her youngest daughter but Albert caught it.

‘I know it’s not my place, but she’s just been foolish. Led astray if you like by someone who should know better.’

‘It’s the back of my hand she should be feeling, making a show of herself – of us all.’

Emily felt sorry for her sister and tried to intercede. ‘Mam, she’s awfully upset and you know what Miss Olivia’s like.’

‘You keep out of this, Emily. She wouldn’t have needed much encouragement, if I know her. She probably thought she’d have dozens of men falling at her feet. Let me tell you this, miss, you can’t make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear. Now get up those stairs and get those things off. Our Emily will take them back in the morning and I suppose your hair will grow again. In the name of heaven, girl, what possessed you?’

‘I’m sorry, Mam. I really am. I don’t want these things. She chose them and paid for them.’

‘She has far too much money and far too much freedom. It’s a good hiding that little madam needs. And tomorrow you can collect your things, you’re coming home to live where I can keep my eye on you. You can share with Emily. I’m not having you staying there and getting up to God knows what else!’

Emily pushed her sister towards the stairs then turned. ‘Have a nice cup of tea, Mam.’

‘You go on up with your sister. I’ll make the tea,’ Albert offered, gently pushing Lily down on the sofa.

Lily closed her eyes. ‘She’ll have me in my grave before my time, will that one. She just doesn’t think. She just goes along with whatever she thinks can offer a bit of fun and excitement without a thought for the consequences.’

‘She wasn’t to know there would be riots. She is pretty shaken up.’

‘Then I hope it’s all done her some good. Oh, Albert, what does she look like with her beautiful hair shorn off like that? Where have I gone wrong?’

He placed a cup in her hand and smiled. ‘I think she looks rather fetching.’ Seeing the widening of Lily’s eyes he went on hurriedly, ‘She’s just a bit of a girl, love. You know how they love to dress themselves up in the latest fashions.’

‘Our Emily doesn’t.’

‘Emily’s different. Now don’t be taking on, we should be thankful she came to no harm.’

Lily emptied her cup. ‘Oh, I suppose you’re right.’

‘Let’s just look on the dressing up as a storm in a teacup. And, talking of tea, will I get us another cup?’

Lily smiled gratefully. What had she done before she married him? She’d have fretted and worried for hours on end, that’s what she would have done. Compared with the trouble that was facing the city now it did all seem like a storm in a teacup.

 

As the city seethed with unrest that very quickly turned into open riots and wholesale looting there was another ‘storm in a teacup’ going on in the stokehold of the
Mauretania
.

It took eighteen hours to get up steam and warm up the engines and, as the stokers, trimmers and firemen gradually reported back, many still the worse for drink, tempers were short.

Jake Malone had been woken at six that morning by a deluge of icy cold water that jerked him upright from his inert position on the kitchen floor. His head thudded as though all the fiends of hell were hammering inside it and his tongue felt too large for his mouth.

‘Jeasus! What did yer do that for, Ma?’ he groaned, resting on one elbow.

Ma Malone glared down at him and moved the clay pipe to the other side of her mouth. ‘Because you’ve kept me awake all the long night wit yer snorin’. Like a pig yez was and not just you, meladdo. All of yez!’ She prodded him with the broom handle. ‘Gerrup wit yez now. Yez work to go to and the rest of yez drunken eejits of brothers. Bejasus, but yer Pa would murder the lot of yez, God rest ’im! On yer feet now!’