Megan of Merseyside (6 page)

Her father had stopped them both from going out in the evenings ever since he had found out that Lynn was still sneaking off to the Stork Club after he’d told them not to go there. Megan being allowed to attend night school was the one exception.

‘I want both of you to keep right away from that place,’ he ordered, ‘or you’ll be getting a bad reputation.’

Lynn protested defiantly. ‘Why must we? It’s only a jazz club …’

‘I mean it!’ He cut her short, his eyes dark with anger. ‘You are both to stay away from the Stork Club, now is that understood?’

Megan had tried to comfort Lynn when she found her huddled on her bed crying.

‘You don’t understand,’ Lynn sobbed. ‘It’s all your fault, you’ve spoiled everything for me. I’ve got a date there with this boy, Flash.’

‘You’ll just have to tell him that you can’t see him.’

‘I especially want to see him because he’s really into jazz. He’s a smashing dancer and he picked me out because he said no one else partners him like I do.’

‘You heard what our dad said about going to the Stork,’ Megan reminded her.

‘I know, but I could still manage to get out to meet him if you helped me.’ She wiped the back
of
her hand across her eyes. ‘If I said I was coming to night school with you …’

‘No! I’m not scheming like that,’ Megan told her emphatically. ‘I know you too well. You wouldn’t come back on time and I would be the one left to make excuses.’

Despite Lynn’s pleading, Megan remained adamant. As it was, she suspected that Lynn was still going to the midday sessions at the Stork Club. She was only a kid still and she could so easily be led astray by someone like this Flash, she decided.

Megan’s glum mood when she arrived home after her gauche mistake with Miles brought a barrage of prying questions from Lynn, but Megan refused to confide in her even though Lynn kept on pestering her until Megan felt she would scream.

It was three days before she saw Miles again and he didn’t even bother to smile or speak to her. She felt terribly upset; she was positive it was because she hadn’t accepted his invitation to go out with him.

By Saturday, she could hardly bring herself to go to work she felt so miserable. Much as she longed to see Miles, and knew he usually came into the office on Saturday mornings, she couldn’t bear the thought that he might ignore her again.

‘It’s only for a few hours, luv,’ her mother sympathised when she complained of not feeling well. ‘Try taking a couple of aspirins, that should help.’

When she left the office at midday, and saw
Miles
waiting at the corner of Old Hall Street, Megan’s heart missed a beat. For a moment she was tempted to turn and walk the other way. Then commonsense prevailed. She would have to face him sooner or later so she might as well get it over with now.

‘Hello, Megan. Sorry I had to ignore you the other day. My father has been lecturing me about being too friendly with the office staff, so I decided I’d better be a bit more careful,’ he explained with a grin.

‘Oh, I thought it was because I didn’t accept your invitation to go out with you.’

‘You little goose.’ He laughed. ‘So when are we going to have a night out together, then? What about Monday?’

Megan’s face flamed. ‘I go to night school on a Monday night.’

‘Give it a miss. Go on,’ he urged, ‘it won’t hurt to skip one lesson.’

Megan hesitated. She had dreamed of going out with Miles ever since their first meeting but Monday was out of the question. This particular Monday evening there was an end of term test and such a lot depended on her marks.

‘I really am sorry, Miles, but it’s impossible. You see …’

‘Oh come off it! Of course you can if you really want to,’ he said impatiently.

‘No, really I can’t. I am free tonight,’ she added hopefully.

‘Well I’m not,’ he told her curtly. He looked at his watch. ‘I must be off,’ he said abruptly. ‘See
you
around sometime!’ He raised his hand in a brief wave and was gone.

Megan stood staring after him, her eyes blurred by tears, a lump in her throat. If only he had given her a chance to tell him why she couldn’t skip night school on this particular Monday, she was sure he would have understood.

She brooded about it all over the weekend, explaining her moodiness away by saying she was worried about the forthcoming tests.

‘You’ll do fine,’ her mother consoled her. ‘Anyway, what does it matter if you don’t?’

‘It’s important that I get good marks because they’ll send an end of term report to Miss Pearce and she will probably show it to Mr Walker.’

‘Well, you can’t be expected to know very much yet, you’ve only been going to these classes for a couple of months,’ her mother pointed out. ‘It must take years to learn shorthand. All those silly squiggles! I don’t know how you can ever remember what they are supposed to mean.’

Chapter Six

THE OPPORTUNITY TO
sort things out with Miles came much sooner than Megan expected. When he came into the office on Monday morning to pick up some documents that he needed to take with him down to the docks, Mr Newbold sent him across to her desk for them.

Finding Miles standing so close to her, Megan’s mind almost went blank. She didn’t even hear what he had asked for, not until he had repeated it a second time.

‘Yes, of course. They’re here, somewhere.’ In her confusion, she knocked over a pile of invoices and they scattered around his feet like falling leaves.

Miles gathered them up and placed them back on her desk. Deftly, he sorted out the papers he needed and made to leave.

Panic stricken because she hadn’t explained her reason for not going out with him, Megan grabbed at his arm. At that moment, Valerie Pearce walked into the general office.

‘Sorry! Have I taken the wrong ones?’ Miles leaned over the desk as though checking the papers he was holding against some of the others lying on Megan’s desk.

‘I’ll be in touch, so don’t try to say anything to
me
now,’ he warned in a low voice as he straightened up.

‘Is there a problem of some kind?’ Miss Pearce asked, bustling over and looking from one to the other with a puzzled frown.

‘Everything is in order now,’ Miles told her blandly. ‘Megan was trying to stop me from walking off with the wrong set of documents.’

‘I see. Are you quite sure it is all sorted out correctly now?’

‘Yes, thank you, Miss Pearce, I’ve got the right ones here.’ He waved the sheaf of papers, then left the office whistling.

In the build-up to Christmas, Megan’s hopes that Miles would contact her as he had promised to do began to fade. He seemed to be coming into the office very early in the morning, before she started work.

Several times she was tempted to leave a message in his tray, hidden among the bills of lading or custom documents. The only thing that stopped her doing so was that she was scared it might get into the wrong hands.

It would be disastrous if Bob Donovan, the other shipping clerk, picked it up and read it. Or, even worse, what would happen if Mr Newbold or Miss Pearce came across it?

If she hadn’t heard from Miles by the time they closed for the bank holiday, then perhaps she’d leave a Christmas card on his desk, she decided. Surely no one would think that there was anything wrong in her doing that?

Her spirits sank when, on Christmas Eve, Miss Pearce announced they would be closing the office early, at one o’clock. She said that it was in order to give everyone the afternoon off so that they would have time to finish any last minute Christmas shopping.

Despondently, Megan resigned herself to the fact that her last chance of seeing or hearing from Miles was gone. She didn’t even have the heart to take the risk of leaving a Christmas card on his desk for him.

At midday, Mr Walker came into the general office to wish everyone a happy Christmas. With a stiff smile and a curt handshake, he presented each of them with a bottle of sherry.

Megan found herself trembling as her turn came because Miles, looking suave and handsome, had joined his father. Simply knowing that he was in the same room made her pulse quicken.

She tried to concentrate her attention on Mr Walker, and to smile and thank him properly for her present.

When Miles also shook her hand she found herself blushing furiously. As their eyes met she felt transfixed by his blue gaze; so much so that she was unable to reply when he wished her a very happy Christmas.

‘I’m looking forward to seeing you in the New Year,’ he added quietly before he let go of her hand. He said it so softly that she wondered if she’d imagined it.

His words floated inside her head, though, for the rest of the day. Although she knew she was
probably
making too much of it his words filled her with hope.

She had been dreading Christmas, knowing it would be so very different from previous ones spent with friends and neighbours in their snug little cottage in Beddgelert. Now that no longer seemed to matter. She would be able to dream her way through the holiday knowing she had something special to look forward to afterwards.

Along with the rest of the family she even promised her father that she’d make his co-driver, Robert Field, who had been invited to spend Christmas Day with them, feel welcome. Privately, though, Megan agreed with Lynn that he sounded rather a bore. They had already decided that he would be at least as old as their father, possibly grey haired and certainly pompous.

He seemed to be the only person her father had made friends with and it annoyed both her and Lynn the way their dad always seemed to be quoting this man’s opinion on every subject under the sun.

Meeting Robert Field for the first time on Christmas Day, they were both surprised at how wrong they’d been. It came as a shock to find he was only in his late twenties and really quite presentable in his charcoal-grey suit, light-blue shirt and grey tie.

Tall and broad framed, he had the well-developed muscles of a man used to doing manual work, but he certainly wasn’t a rough workman. He was quietly spoken, he had a warm, friendly smile and was quite good-looking. His thick,
light-brown
hair, brushed back from his brow, gave his face a lean, strong look.

Robert had brought them all gifts. For Kathy, there was an elaborate box of toiletries, malt whisky for Watkin, a lead-crystal paperweight for Megan and a jazz record for Lynn.

Megan stood holding her present, viewing the intricate blue, white, pink and purple pattern through the multifaceted sides and thinking she had never owned anything quite so lovely before.

If only it had been a present from Miles, she mused!

The moment the thought came to her she looked up guiltily, conscious that Robert was watching her, his light-blue eyes speculative.

‘It’s lovely,’ she exclaimed quickly. ‘Thank you very much.’

His face relaxed into a smile. ‘I’m glad you like it. I thought you might find it useful since you work in an office …’

‘Oh, I wouldn’t dream of taking this in to work!’ she interrupted quickly. ‘No, it will have a treasured place here …’ She stopped, blushing furiously, hoping he wouldn’t read more into her words than she had intended.

When her mother called out from the kitchen that she needed someone to help her, Megan quickly made her escape.

The rest of the day passed pleasantly enough. They sat down to turkey with all the usual accompaniments, followed by a traditional plum pudding, which Robert ceremoniously lit. Afterwards they were all replete and so relaxed that they even
enjoyed
listening to Lynn’s new jazz record.

Later, after mince pies and Christmas cake, they played cards until it was time for bed.

‘It’s much too late for Robert to go home,’ Watkin pronounced. ‘Fetch some blankets, Kathy, and make him up a bed on the couch.’

Boxing Day dawned crisp and clear. There was frost glistening on the rooftops, and the sun was shining from a blue sky. After a rather late breakfast, Robert suggested that they should all go to New Brighton and take a walk along the promenade.

Lynn and Megan enjoyed the crossing. Although they had been living in Liverpool now for over three months it was the first time they had been on one of the ferry boats.

‘It must be wonderful living over on this side of the Mersey,’ Megan remarked as they walked briskly along the promenade towards Wallasey Village. ‘Those houses high up on our left must have views right out to sea.’

‘Yes, they can probably even see right over to the Welsh mountains when the weather is as clear as it is today,’ agreed her father.

‘Mr Walker lives in one of those houses,’ Robert told them.

‘Really!’ Megan looked startled. ‘Do you know which one it is?’

‘It’s that big white place right at the edge of the headland. Can you see it? It looks like a miniature castle.’

Megan couldn’t tear her gaze away from the magnificent building. With its crenellated walls
and
round tower at one corner, it looked like something out of a fairy tale.

The thought that Miles was so near was disturbing. She felt the blood rushing to her face when Robert said conversationally, ‘The Walkers also have another place over in Wales, so I expect they’re spending Christmas over there.’

Suddenly the walk had lost its appeal for Megan. She wanted to know where in Wales the Walkers’ place was, but she didn’t like to ask. She felt that if it was anywhere near their old home then that would be another link between herself and Miles.

She shivered and clutched her coat more tightly round her. She longed for the Christmas holiday to be over so that she could be back at work and see Miles again.

When Robert asked, ‘Are you feeling cold, Megan? This wind is a mean one, shall we turn back?’ she was the first to agree.

Chapter Seven

MEGAN’S PLEASURE IN
returning to work on the Monday after Christmas was something of an anticlimax. Very few boats had entered or left the port over the holiday period. As a result, there were no bills of lading to process so she found herself at a loose end.