Dancing in the Dark (9 page)

Albert had given them permission to listen to his wireless, from which they learned there’d been no developments overnight. Ships and aircraft were still trying to pinpoint the position of the stricken submarine.

On her way to work, Flo passed several groups of people gravely discussing the tragedy, which had touched the hearts of everyone in Liverpool. Twice she was asked, “Have you heard any fresh news, luv?” All she could do was shake her head.

She bought a Daily Herald. Everyone in the laundry had bought a paper and the Thetis was the main headline on them all, as well as the sole topic of conversation all morning. Betty Bryant knew a woman who knew a woman whose cousin’s husband was on board.

“I know someone on board even better than that,”

Olive Knott said smugly. “In fact, we all do. Remember that feller who brought his suit in for dry-cleaning a couple of months ago, Tommy O’Mara? He’s a fitter with Cammell Laird. His poor ould wife wasn’t half making a scene last night! Running up and down the street she was, screaming her head off. It took half a dozen neighbours to calm her. Mind you, Nancy O’Mara’s always had a couple of screws loose.”

“But he wasn’t supposed to go!” Flo’s horrified words were lost in the chorus of dismay.

“Such a dead handsome feller, what a shame!”

“He was a cheeky-looking bugger, but I liked him.”

Josie Driver looked close to tears.

Olive made a sour face. “I don’t wish him any harm, but Nancy’ll be better off without the bugger. He drove the poor woman doo-lally with his philandering.

No woman, married or single, was safe near Tommy O’Mara.”

That’s not true! Flo wanted to scream that Olive was talking nonsense. Tommy may have been a bit of a blade in the past—in fact, he’d hinted so more than once—but it was only because Nancy hadn’t been a proper wife in a long time. Since he’d met Flo, he wouldn’t have given another woman a second glance. Oh, if only she could tell them! But why on earth was she thinking like this when it didn’t matter a jot what Olive thought? What mattered was that Tommy might die! If he did, Flo wanted to die, too.

In her agitation she nearly scorched a shirt. Then Betty made things worse by reading out something from the newspaper. There was only enough oxygen on board to last thirty-six hours. Once the supply dried up, the men would die from carbon-dioxide poisoning. “It means there’s not much time left.” Betty clasped her hands together as if she were praying. “Holy Mary, Mother of God, please save those poor men!”

Then Mr Fritz came hurrying in, panting for breath.

“The Thetis has been spotted with its stern sticking out of the water fourteen miles from Great Ormes Head. It was on the wireless just before I left.”

“Thank the Lord!” Josie shouted. “They’re bound to save them now.”

Relief swept through Flo’s body so forcefully that, for a moment, she felt sick. She swayed, and Mr Fritz snatched the gas iron from her hand. “Are you all right, Flo?”

“I hardly slept last night. I feel a bit ragged, that’s all.”

“You go home, girl, if you don’t feel better soon,” he said concernedly. “I don’t want you on your feet all day if you’ve got problems.”

“Problems” meant he thought she had a period. Standing for ten hours in the equivalent of a steambath was hard on women who had trouble with their monthlies, and Mr Fritz was always sympathetic if someone needed a day off. Flo, however, had always sailed through hers without so much as a twinge. Apart from a week’s holiday each year, she hadn’t had a single day off since she’d started five years ago straight from school.

“I’ll see how I feel,” she told him gratefully.

The feeling of sickness soon left her, but for the first time the noise in the laundry began to get on her nerves: the churning of the washing in the boilers, the clatter of the belt-driven wringers, the hiss of the irons. Flo knew she couldn’t work all day with the sounds pressing against her brain while she remained ignorant of the fate of the Thetis.

At midday, she went into the office and told Mr Fritz she felt no better. “I wouldn’t mind going home, after all.”

She felt slightly ashamed of how good she’d become at lying over the last two months.

He fussed around, patted her cheek, and said she didn’t look anything like her usual glowing self. He even offered to take her to Burnett Street in the van.

“No, ta,” she said. “I might walk around a bit to clear me head. I’ll go to bed this avvy.”

“Good idea, Flo, I hope you feel better tomorrow.”

Several hundred men and women had congregated in front of the gates of Cammell Laird. Some of the women held babies in their arms with slightly older children clutching their skirts. Some faces were hopeful, others blank with despair. A woman she couldn’t see was shouting for her man. Flo’s heart sank. It would seem there hadn’t been more good news.

A girl with a glorious head of red hair, about the same age as herself, was standing at the back. “What’s happening?”

Flo asked.

“Four men got out through the escape hatches, otherwise nowt.” The girl’s face was extraordinarily colourful: pink lips, rosy cheeks, black-lashed eyes the colour of violets, all framed in the cloud of red waves.

“But someone at work said the stern was sticking out the water,” Flo groaned. “I’d have thought they’d have hauled it up by now.”

The girl shrugged. “I’d have thought so, too, but they haven’t.” She looked at Flo sympathetically. “Have you got someone on board?”

Flo bit her lip. The feller.”

“Aye, so’s mine. Well, he’s only a sort of feller.” She didn’t look the least bit upset. “I only came out of curiosity. I’m always looking for an excuse to get off work. I suppose it’s about time I went—I called in and said I had to see the doctor.”

“I told a lie to get away meself,” Flo confessed.

The girl made a face as if implying they were partners in a crime. “Are you from Liverpool or Birkenhead?” She spoke in a loud, musical voice that rose and fell as if she was singing.

“Liverpool. I came on the ferry.”

The, too. I’ll catch the next one back. Are you coming?”

“I only just got here. I’d sooner stay and see if anything happens.” Flo wished the girl didn’t have to go. She rather liked her friendly, down-to-earth manner.

“I might go to the pics tonight. It’ll be all about the Thetis on the Pathe News. Tara, then.” She clattered away on her high heels.

“Tara.” Flo sighed. If the submarine hadn’t been brought up by tonight, it would be cutting things fine for those on board.

She turned her attention to the crowd. “What I’d like to know,” a man muttered aggressively, “is why they don’t bore a hole through the hull and get everyone out that way, or at least pass in a hose of oxygen.”

Somewhere a woman was still shouting: “What have you done with my man?” Flo edged her way through the throng.

“There’s no need for that carryon,” an elderly woman remarked acidly. “Most of us are feared for our lads, but we’re not reduced to weeping and wailing like a bloody banshee. Just look at the way she’s throwing herself about an’all!”

Flo didn’t answer. She had almost reached the front when she froze. Nancy O’Mara was kneeling on the ground, her hands clasped imploringly towards the closed gates of the ship-builder’s. Her crow-black eyes burned unnaturally bright, as if with fever. Long strands of hair had escaped from the big bun coiled on her neck, and writhed like little snakes as she rocked to and fro. She looked almost insane with grief. Every now and then she turned her tragic face towards the men and women standing silently each side of her. “Why?” she pleaded.

“Why, oh, why?”

Nobody answered, the faces remained impassive. They had no idea why. At that moment, there wasn’t a person on earth who knew why ninety-nine human beings still remained on the stricken vessel when it was surrounded by rescue ships and the stern was visible for all to see.

Flo stood stock-still as she watched Tommy’s wife throw herself back and forth on the pavement. Nancy paused to seek succour from those around her yet again.

“Why?” Then she caught sight of Flo, who stood transfixed as the burning eyes bored into hers, so full of hate that she felt her blood turn to ice.

Nancy knew!

With a cry that almost choked her, Flo turned and pushed her way through the crowd. She ran, faster than she’d ever run before, past the docks, the half-built ships, the vessels waiting to be loaded or unloaded. She ran until she reached the ferry, where a seaman was just about to raise the gangplank, and launched herself on to the deck. “Just made it, luv.” He grinned.

Flo hardly heard. She climbed the stairs until she reached the top deck where she leaned on the handrail and stared into the calm greeny-brown waters of the Mersey. A warm breeze fanned her face, and her mind was blank, devoid of emotion or thought.

“Hello, there,” said a familiar voice. “I thought you were going to stay and see what happened?”

“I decided not to.” Flo turned. The red-haired girl was the only person she didn’t mind seeing at the moment. “I felt too upset.”

“You shouldn’t get upset over a feller.” The girl leaned on the rail beside her. She wore a smart emerald-green frock that accentuated her vividly coloured face. At any other time Flo would have felt ashamed of the shabby blouse and skirt she wore for work. “There’s plenty more where he came from. Someone with your looks will soon get fixed up again.”

“I don’t want to get fixed up again,” Flo whispered. “I’ll never go out with anyone else. Never!”

“Don’t tell me you’re in love?” The girl sounded faintly disgusted.

Flo nodded numbly. For the first time since she’d heard the news about Tommy, she began to cry. The tears flowed freely down her cheeks and fell silently on to the smooth waters below.

“Come on, girl.” Flo felt her shoulders being painfully squeezed. “What’s your name?”

“Flo Clancy.”

“I’m Isobel Macintyre, but everyone calls me Bel.” She gave Flo a little shake. “Look, the ferry’s about to dock.

Shall we find somewhere and have a cup of tea?”

“I’d love to, but what about your job?”

“Sod me job! I’ll tell them the doctor said I was run down and I needed a day off to put me feet up. Anyroad, it says almost half past two on the Liver building clock, so it’s not worth going in.”

Flo couldn’t help but smile through her tears. “You’re the healthiest-looking person I’ve ever seen.”

There was a cafe a short way along Water Street, almost empty after the dinner-time rush. They were about to enter, when Flo remembered she had only enough money for her tram fare home.

“Don’t worry,” Bel said, when she told her. “I’m flush so it can be my treat.”

As they drank their tea and Flo nibbled at a sticky bun, Bel informed her that she worked as a waitress at La Porte Rouge, a restaurant in Bold Street. “That’s French for the Red Door. It’s dead posh and I get good tips, particularly off the fellers. Last week, I got fifteen bob altogether.”

“Just in tips! Gosh, I don’t get much more than that in wages.”

Bel asked where she worked and where she lived and all about her family. Flo could tell she was trying to keep her mind off the events taking place above and below the sea not too many miles away. She gladly told her all about Fritz’s Laundry, about Mam and her sisters, and how they’d had to take in a lodger when Dad died. “He’s dead nice, Albert. The thing is, our Martha’s determined to marry him. I can’t think why, “cos though he’s nice, he’s no oil painting, and he’s forty-five. She wears glasses, though, and she thinks she’ll never catch a feller. You should hear the way she bosses me and our Sal around, just “cos she’s the oldest,” Flo said indignantly.

“She couldn’t be any worse than me auntie Mabel,” Bel said flatly. “She’s an ould cow if there ever was one.” She explained that her mam had died when she was only four and she’d been dumped on Auntie Mabel who lived in Everton Valley. The dad’s away at sea most of the time. I can’t wait to get away meself. I’m eighteen, and the very second the war starts, I’m going to join the Army.”

“But the Army only take men!”

“Of course they don’t, soft girl! They take women an” all. They’re called the ATS, which stands for Auxiliary Territorial Service.”

Just then, two men came in, talking volubly, and sat at the next table. After they had given the waitress their order, they continued their conversation.

“It’s bloody disgraceful!” one said angrily. “If I had a son on board, I’d kick up a stink all the way to Parliament.

Why was she allowed to dive with twice the normal complement on board? Why was the Navy so long finding her position? And I’ll never understand why cutting gear hasn’t been brought by now and a hole made in her stern. The men would be free if the powers-that-be had any sense of urgency.”

“If someone doesn’t get their finger out pretty soon, it’ll be too late,” the other man said.

“If it isn’t already! That business about there being enough oxygen for thirty-six hours, I’d like to know if that takes account of the extra men as well as the crew.”

“Do you ever go dancing, Flo?” Bel asked brightly.

But Flo’s mind had been distracted long enough. “I wonder if anything’s happened,” she whispered.

“Don’t sound like it. But try not to lose heart, Flo.

There’s still hope.”

Flo gave a deep, shuddering sigh. It was strange, but she couldn’t help thinking about Nancy.

“Your chap’s married, isn’t he?” Bel said knowingly.

“How did you guess?” Flo gasped.

“If he was a proper boyfriend, this Mr Fritz would have let you off like a shot. Instead, you had to tell a lie to get away.”

“So did you,” Flo pointed out. “Your chap must be married, too.”

Bel made a face. “It so happens he’s not. Tuesday was only the second time I’d seen him. That’s when he told me he was sailing with the Thetis because some other feller had been taken poorly. When I saw the headlines in this morning’s papers, it seemed a good excuse for a ride on the ferry—I often go on me own. In fact, that’s where I met my chap, on the Birkenhead ferry.” She pursed her red lips primly. “I’m not the sort of girl who goes out with married men, thanks all the same. Mind you, Flo, you don’t look the sort, either, particularly with you being a Catholic an’ all, not like me.”