Love or Duty--A saga set in 1920s Liverpool
Read Love or Duty--A saga set in 1920s Liverpool Online
Authors: Rosie Harris
Table of Contents
A Selection of Recent Titles from Rosie Harris
LOVE AGAINST ALL ODDS
SING FOR YOUR SUPPER
WAITING FOR LOVE
LOVE CHANGES EVERYTHING
A DREAM OF LOVE
A LOVE LIKE OURS
THE QUALITY OF LOVE
WHISPERS OF LOVE
AMBITIOUS LOVE
THE PRICE OF LOVE
A BRIGHTER DAWN
HELL HATH NO FURY *
STOLEN MOMENTS *
LOVE OR DUTY *
* available from Severn House
Rosie Harris
This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author's and publisher's rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.
First published in Great Britain and the USA 2014 by
SEVERN HOUSE PUBLISHERS LTD of
9â15 High Street, Sutton, Surrey, England, SM1 1DF.
eBook edition first published in 2014 by Severn House Digital
an imprint of Severn House Publishers Limited
Copyright © 2014 by Marion Harris.
The right of Marion Harris to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs & Patents Act 1988.
British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data
Harris, Rosie, 1925- author.
Love or duty.
1. Poor childrenâEnglandâLiverpoolâFiction.
2. CaregiversâFiction. 3. Great BritainâHistoryâ
George V, 1910-1936âFiction.
I. Title
823.9'14-dc23
ISBN-13: 978-0-7278-8361-2 (cased)
ISBN-13: 978-1-84751-503-2 (trade paper)
ISBN-13: 978-1-78010-505-5 (ePub)
Except where actual historical events and characters are being described for the storyline of this novel, all situations in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to living persons is purely coincidental.
This ebook produced by
Palimpsest Book Production Limited,
Falkirk, Stirlingshire, Scotland.
To Roger and Jenny Harris
With many thanks to Edwin Buckhalter, Kate Lyall-Grant and the wonderful team at Severn House. Also to my agent Caroline Sheldon and to Robert Harris for continuing to maintain my Web.
âI can't stop to talk about it now, Mother, or I will be late and you know how Arnold hates to be kept waiting,' Penny Forshaw protested as she tilted her white straw hat to an attractive angle.
Penny was a slim and pretty young woman with neatly bobbed fair hair and light blue eyes, She was wearing a knee-length apple-green dress that emphasized her trim figure and shapely legs. As she fastened the single button of the white linen jacket she was wearing over it and pulled on her white gloves she took a satisfied look at her reflection in the full-length mirror fixed on the inside of the hall cupboard door.
âVery well, Penelope, but we must fix the date as soon as possible,' her mother went on. âThere's an awful lot involved in planning a wedding, especially one that is going to be as important as yours will be.
âAs well as our own family and friends there's Arnold's family to be considered. They may want to invite some of their important contacts in shipping circles. You and Arnold will want to invite your friends from the tennis club and the Amateur Dramatic Society as well as some of your other friends too. I need to prepare a list of names as soon as possible.'
âYes, Mother.' Penny smiled patiently, knowing how much all this meant to her mother. âOn our way back I'll try and finalize the date with Arnold so that we can tell you at lunchtime,' she promised.
If her mother had her way their wedding next year was going to be the most momentous occasion of 1925. Apart from deciding on when and possibly where it was to take place it seemed to Penny that she and her fiancé Arnold Watson were going to have very little say in any of the other arrangements.
When she'd mentioned this fact to Arnold a couple of weeks ago he had dismissed it as being of no great importance. âSimply think of it as delegating responsibility,' he'd told her breezily. âIt's something I do all the time.'
When she'd pointed out that that was when he was at the office and dealing with business matters but their wedding was a much more personal event he'd simply dismissed the problem with a shrug.
âWell, run along then and drive carefully,' her mother said, her voice cutting through her thoughts. âDo remember, Penelope, that you are driving your father's Humber and that it is twice the size of your little Baby Austin and far more powerful,' she reminded her.
Penny nodded but didn't answer because she knew that in the next breath her mother would remind her of how lucky she was to have an Austin Seven motor car of her very own and to have been taught to drive at her age. Instead, she picked up the keys to her father's car from the hallstand and left before her mother could once again protest about her driving it and say she should have asked his permission before doing so.
It was a lovely warm summer's day and as she gingerly edged the big Humber car out of the driveway of their large detached house in Penkett Road and into the tree-lined road she found herself squinting in the bright sunlight.
She took a quick peek at her watch and was alarmed to see that it was almost twenty minutes past twelve. The
Royal Daffodil
ferry boat bringing Arnold across to Wallasey from his office in Liverpool's Old Hall Street, was due to dock at Seacombe Ferry promptly at twelve thirty. Arnold hated to be kept waiting even for a few minutes. Well now he would probably have to wait for much longer than that, she thought worriedly as she turned into Manor Road and joined the busy Saturday morning traffic.
As she reached King Street, the main road that would take her to Seacombe Ferry, she saw there was a hold-up. Cars and trams were all stationary while a stocky young man unloaded churns of milk from a horse-drawn float outside Webster's Dairy.
Biting her lip in frustration Penny decided to turn left down one of the side streets that led down to the Mersey. Going that way it might take her a little longer to reach the ferry but there would be far less traffic than there was in King Street so she would be able to put her foot down and make up for lost time.
As she drove along the promenade road, which ran parallel with the River Mersey, she could see the
Royal Daffodil
ferry boat was already churning its way through the grey water and would be pulling up at the landing stage at Seacombe at any minute.
Long before she reached there passengers began disembarking from the boat and making their way up the floating roadway. As well as office workers who had finished work early because it was a Saturday there were day trippers, eager to enjoy the summer sunshine. Some were boarding the waiting trams while others were walking along the promenade towards Egremont and New Brighton.
Suddenly Penny was aware of a ball bouncing across the road in front of her and almost hitting the windscreen of the Humber. Her heart raced as she applied the footbrake and simultaneously pulled on the handbrake in an effort to stop quickly. The next moment she felt a slight bump followed by a piercing scream that made her heart pound. Someone must have run out into the road after the ball, she thought in horror. Surely she hadn't hit them.
As she breathed in deeply trying to quell the upsurge of panic that was making her feel nauseous she saw people were beginning to cluster around a small figure lying prone on the ground directly in front of her car and howling with pain.
By the time she had opened the car door and stepped out she found herself facing a crowd of irate day trippers. Several of them began shouting at her and accusing her of driving too fast and not looking where she was going; others were saying that women shouldn't be allowed to drive.
A man who was bending over the child looked up and said that she was badly injured and needed to go to hospital. Penny felt numb as the crowd hassled her. She didn't know what to do; she had never felt so helpless or so scared in her life. Someone pointed towards the newly installed red telephone box and told her to use it to call an ambulance. While she fumbled in her handbag to find some coins so that she could do so, others called out instructions about how to use the newfangled invention.
Penny was relieved when a uniformed policeman arrived on the scene and things immediately became calmer as he took control.
In a complete daze and full of remorse about what had happened Penny did her best to answer all the questions the policeman fired at her. She couldn't take her eyes away from the tiny scrawny figure with matted jet-black hair lying on the ground in front of her car and still screaming with pain.
When the ambulance arrived the child was gently lifted on to a stretcher and covered over with a blanket. Penny turned up the collar of her linen jacket to try and control her own shivering as the child was then put into the ambulance.
As the attendant slammed shut the ambulance doors ready to leave she managed to move forward and grab at his arm. âDo you know the name of the little girl you're taking to hospital?'
âNo!' He shook her hand away. âAsk the policeman he'll probably be able to tell you.'
âCan you tell me the little girl's name?' Penny asked, turning back to the policeman who had been interrogating her.
âYes, miss. The child's name is Kelly Murphy and she's six years old and â' he paused and flicked back a page in his notebook â âI'm told she lives with her mother Ellen Murphy in Cannon Court which is off Scotland Road in Liverpool.'
âIs there no one here with her, she's so small to be so far from home all on her own.'
âShe was on a day out with a party of older kids as far as I can understand.'
âHave any of them gone to the hospital with her? Has her mother been told about what has happened?' Penny asked worriedly.
The policeman frowned and then snapped shut his notebook. âIt's all in hand, miss,' he told her stolidly.
âYes, of course. Such a terrible thing to happen; she must have darted out after the ball â¦' Penny's voice trailed off guiltily as she saw the impassive look on his face.
âCan I go now,' she asked quickly. âI was supposed to be meeting my fiancé, Arnold Watson, at Seacombe Ferry terminal at half past twelve and he hates to be kept waiting so he will be wondering where I am. You have my name and address so you can contact me if you need any more information.'
