A Liverpool Lass (8 page)

Lilac, sniffing, said she could and presently, with watering mouth, she found herself in a small, whitewashed room crowded with rough wooden tables and wielding a determined knife and fork over a plate of the best fried fish and potatoes she had ever dreamed of devouring.

‘You’re right; best fish in the ’pool’, her new friend said, eating almost as vigorously as she. ‘What do you have for your dinners at that place, then, Culler’s?’

‘Bread and rhubarb jam,’ Lilac said thickly through a mouthful. ‘Pass the vinegar, Joey!’

Nellie was worn out and terribly worried by the time dusk had fallen and she had still seen no sign of Lilac, but at least she knew, now, that she was heading in the right direction. She had followed the trail like a blood-hound, asking everyone she passed, ‘Have you seen a kid of about seven, with red-gold hair, wearing the Culler uniform?’

It was astonishing the number of people who did not know the Culler uniform, though less astonishing when you remembered, as Nellie did, how rarely the children went far from the vicinity of Rodney Street, and because it was a street largely used by the medical profession the children did not see shoppers or, indeed, shops. There was Philip Stern the pawnbroker, of course: a fascinating window for small noses to press against, and Mrs Rhoda Broughal’s hats, but other than that it was a dreary procession of brass medical plates on most doors as surgeons, laryngologists and dentists vied discreetly for customers.

Even the twice daily church attendance on a Sunday did not mean a long walk, since Mrs Ransom, with a fine disregard for firmly held convictions, saw the entire orphanage off to Catholic Mass at the cathedral on the corner of Warren Street in the morning and to evensong at St Luke’s on Bold Street in the evening. As both churches were a very short walk from Rodney Street, the long crocodile of brown-clad children making their way to church was not a common sight to the majority of Liverpudlians.

But even so, a good many people had noticed the child with the red-gold hair, and Nellie was able to chart Lilac’s progress down as far as the docks. Then she simply lost the trail. She went up and down the road which ran alongside the docks asking, asking, but had no luck until she had gone right along to the pierhead. Here she met a fat woman with three small children who said she recalled seeing just such a child in a fried fish shop on South Castle Street. She was with a seaman, they looked like father and child to the fat woman.

‘Father and child?’ quavered Nellie. ‘Oh, ma’am, I had better hurry!’

Thoughts of the white slave trade made her feet patter along at top speed, but when she reached the fried fish shop and enquired for Lilac of the weary, red-headed man behind the counter, sweating and swearing as he dipped fish in batter and threw it into the hot fat, she was once again too late.

‘They’ve gone, chuck,’ he said, wiping beads of sweat off his brow with the back of a freckly hand. ‘The feller asked me de way to Rodney Street, but de lickle lass said as ’ow thev’d go to the Scottie instead and visit her auntie.’

‘And did they go towards Rodney Street or the Scottie?’ Nellie asked, hope stirring. It did sound as
though Lilac had met a young man who meant her no harm, not if he was trying to get her back to Culler’s. ‘Did you notice?’

But the red-headed man had not even seen them leave and an appeal to the assorted customers waiting to be served or eating their food brought no more information forth. No one had noticed the little girl with the red-golden curls once she and her companion had got up from the table.

Nellie had eaten nothing since her dinner at noon and it was now nearly ten o’clock. She was footsore and thirsty and beginning to be healthily cross with Lilac. If Nellie had told the child once not to talk to strangers she’d told her a dozen times, and yet look at her! First moment she got away she got herself picked up by a young man and when he tried to take her home as he ought she confused the issue by talking about the court on the Scottie Road! For the first time, Nellie felt a tiny thread of fellow-feeling for Miss Hicks – Lilac could be a real little monkey!

So instead of setting off at once, possibly in the wrong direction, Nellie bought a paper of fried potatoes and a china mug of tea. She leaned against the wall – the tables were all taken – and ate and drank quite slowly, and when a man got up to leave she slipped into his seat and allowed the warmth and the food to be absorbed slowly into her cold and hungry body.

So it was half-past ten before she left the fried fish shop, and as she reached Canning Place she had the biggest piece of luck so far. She was turning into Mariner’s Parade to cut through into Paradise Street and there, walking jauntily along the narrow pavement and whistling to himself, was Davy Evans!

Nellie took one long, astonished look and then, with a sob, she ran straight into Davy’s arms and felt them close joyfully round her.

‘Nellie McDowell, what on earth are you doing here? Oh, dreaming of you one moment I was, and the next you’re in my arms! But you’re crying ... my darling girl, whatever is the matter? Tell Davy, let me help.’

Nellie took a deep breath, tried to detach herself from Davy’s warm embrace – cuddling in the street was for little sluts who knew no better, she had been taught – and then sank gratefully back onto Davy’s lean, strong chest.

‘Oh Davy, I’ve never been so glad to see someone in me whole life – Lilac’s gone and run away, she’s with some feller ...’

He put her back from him, a frown creasing his brow.

‘Lilac’s run off with some feller? Cariad, it’s dreaming you are! Lilac’s a little girl, she wouldn’t ...’

Despite her anxiety, Nellie gave a watery giggle.

‘Oh dear, was that how it sounded? She ran off because a teacher whipped her, and then it seems she fell in with some feller – he’s a seaman someone told me – and they had a fish supper together and now ... and now they’ve gone again and I’ve lost them and I’m so afraid for her ... and I’m furious, too, that she could be so silly and thoughtless after all the times I’ve told her and told her ... oh, Davy, what must I do?’

‘Blow your nose, wipe your eyes and let me put my coat round you; you’re shivering like a leaf,’ Davy said firmly. ‘A seaman, eh? I wonder if he’s got a bed in the sailors’ home? I booked in late and missed supper so just going down to Castle Street I was, to get a meal, when I ran into you – or rather you ran into me.’ He watched whilst Nellie dried her eyes, blew her nose and then snuggled into the jacket which he had slipped out of as he spoke. ‘There, is that better?’

‘Yes, much. But Davy ...’

‘No buts. We’ll have to check that she hasn’t gone back to Rodney Street before we do anything else, or do you think she’ll make for Coronation Court?’

‘I don’t know, and I’m worn out and ...’

‘Don’t fret, you’ve walked quite far enough for one night. I’ll call a cab.’

‘I’ve got n-no m-money,’ Nellie shivered. ‘I just r-ran out as I was.’

‘Did I ask for money? Hey, cabby!’

Davy told the cabby to take them to Rodney Street and once there, he waited in the cab whilst Nellie checked on Lilac’s whereabouts.

Realising that her own absence might have been remarked by now, Nellie went to the back door and the cook let her in, round-eyed with astonishment over what she described as ‘all the goings-on’.

‘We’ve had a dozen runaways before, but none so much trouble,’ she said roundly. ‘Why Nellie, it was you everyone was worried about, you they reported as missing to the constable! They had to send Arthur all the way to the police station at the top end of Warren Street, and him a-grumblin’ that gairls always landed on their feet like cats, and they’d no cause to mek an
old man walk miles when he’d just had his tea! You’ve always been a reliable worker you see, Nell, so not even Miss Hicks could believe you’d run off too, they thought you’d been took by some Man!’

‘Well, tell them to un-report me,’ Nellie said crossly. ‘I’m perfectly all right, I shall spend the night with my family, in Coronation Court. I’m hoping that Lilac may have fled there. And you may tell Miss Hicks,’ she added grimly, ‘that she and I will have words if and when I get my Lilac back safe.’

Back in the cab once more, she took Davy’s hand in hers and spoke with the utmost earnestness.

‘Davy, I have to go to the Scottie, but if you’ll tell the cabby to stop at the sailors’ home then you can get out there and I’ll go on alone. I’ll be quite all right, honest!’

‘Oh yes, and I can see myself explaining how I let a young girl go off in a cab by herself, and me sleeping the sleep of the just in the sailors’ home,’ Davy said sarcastically. ‘No, I’m with you, cariad. Just sit back and we’ll be at the court in no time.’

Meanwhile Lilac, in blissful ignorance of the search which was going on and never giving a thought to poor Nellie’s worries, was sitting on another tram which was rattling gamely down the Scotland Road. Beside her sat Joey, peering out and exclaiming that if he’d known her relatives lived near Paddy’s Market he’d have brought her back earlier.

‘Never miss a visit to the Market when I’m in Liverpool,’ he said wistfully. ‘Got some good stuff dahn there, and the grub’s a treat an’ all.’

‘Me and Nellie’s going there to buy our presents for Christmas,’ Lilac said. ‘I’ve been saving all year – I’ve
got thruppence and our Nell will give me some more nearer the time, she says.’

‘Who’s Nell? Someone else in the Culler?’

‘No, Nell’s my sister! She’s a big girl, not little, like me. She takes care of me and buys me things – I love our Nell best of everyone in the world, I love her even better than our Matt.’

Joey shook his head.

‘You’re a reg’lar one, you are! First you’re an orphan, then you’ve got brothers, then you’ve got a ma and pa except you don’t know where they are and now you’ve got a sister Nellie and someone you love called Matt. Who’s Matt when he’s at ’ome?’

‘Oh, a sort of brother, like. I think we should get out now ... cripes, look at all the people about although it’s the middle of the night!’

They climbed down off the tram and stood for a moment on the pavement. A chancy wind had got up and housewives doing their shopping had their shawls wrapped tightly round them against the night’s chill. Above their heads the gaslights flickered uneasily in the sudden gusts and Lilac seized Joey’s hand firmly in her own. It was strange how darkness changed things – her dear Scottie Road looked quite different and faces which, in daylight, would have seemed smiling and kind looked somehow sinister now as their owners bustled from shop to shop, waiting for the owners to reduce their prices as closing time drew near.

‘Well, which way?’ demanded Joey as his small guide simply stood there, looking about her.

Lilac, about to tug him off towards the court, had a sudden, uneasy feeling that her welcome there might not be so assured in the middle of the night as it had always been by day. Suppose Aunt Ada, who had a
sharp tongue, bawled at her and sent her packing? Matt would know, and he would think she had been a fool to run away so late, he would say she should have come to them at once, not leave it until the last moment like this. And then there was Uncle Billy, quietly coughing in his corner; he might not be pleased to see a child he had only met a few times ... and she had told Joey lies, she found she did not want Joey to learn that she really was an orphan, that she had no claim to any of the brothers and sisters she had told him about.

‘Umm ... I think we’ll try Charlie first,’ she said therefore, suddenly remembering that Charlie and Bessie had a lovely little house of their own now, and a spare room as well. Surely Charlie and Bessie, who were always so nice to her, would not turn her away? Why, Bessie was expecting a baby and always made a great fuss of Lilac, said she was a pretty crittur and that Nellie was the best sister a girl ever had. Yes, it would be better to try Charlie’s first. He and Bessie lived in a landing house just off Victoria Square and Lilac found her way there easily enough, tugging Joey along behind her.

‘I can’t leave you outside,’ Joey said when they reached the large block of houses, divided up by floors into different homes. ‘Whereabouts is their flat?’

‘Flat? It’s a house, only all on one floor, with other people’s houses over and under,’ Lilac explained. ‘See those little iron steps? We go up them, then along the balcony. It’s number five.’

The housing block was humming with life despite the lateness of the hour. People were calling out to each other, children hung around the balconies in small groups, playing, shouting, and adults came in and out of their homes. Lilac noticed in the incurious way of children that a good deal of attention was being
lavished on number five, but she was now only interested in how she would be received when they arrived, so hurried up. the steps and along the balcony, not bothering to stop and ask what was happening – indeed, for all she knew this might be normal behaviour at night for the block.

She reached the doorway of her destination. Yellow light flooded out into the darkness and the kitchen was full of women. For a moment Lilac stopped short, dismayed. Had she got the number wrong? Where were Bessie and Charlie? And what was that awful noise?

She stepped into the room. A woman looked across, began to order her out, to tell her to play with the other kids, and then seemed to realise that she was a stranger and had a man with her, as well. She came over to the doorway. She was a tall, loose-limbed woman with a mop of untidy yellow hair and a face upon which the ravages of drink had already made their mark. But she seemed in charge here and spoke directly to Joey, taking no notice of Lilac.

‘Evenin’! What might you be wantin’, me fine bucko? If it’s Charlie you’re after, then isn’t he down de boozer where all de fellers should be at such a time? Mrs Matlock is with Bessie an’ her mam’s there too and they say she’s doin’ fine.’ A loud shriek from the room Lilac knew to be the young McDowells’ bedroom made her break off and glance over her shoulder. ‘Need ’ot water yet, our Iris?’ she called. ‘I’ll be wit’ ye in a minute, dere’s a feller here wants Charlie.’