The Girl From Seaforth Sands (49 page)

He had no doubt that the Liverpool judies who haunted the port, had their own method of keeping unwanted lovers at bay, but since he had no intention of embroiling himself with any local girl, no matter how pretty, he would be safe enough there.

Come to that, although he had mixed with the local girls when ashore in the Americas, he had always made it plain that he was not interested in either buying or otherwise obtaining their company. It was not, he told himself, that he was embittered by what had happened between him and Amy, but he acknowledged that at any rate he had been deeply hurt by it. He fully intended to get married one day and hoped that he would meet the right girl and be as happy with her as his mother had been with Bill, but he thought he would wait a while before taking such a giant step. Bill had been well past fifty before he married Suzie, which was a bit extreme – Paddy
thought forty a more suitable age himself – but clearly it behoved one to move cautiously before committing oneself to marriage.

The clatter as the gangplank went down brought Paddy out of his reverie and sent him scuttling down the nearest companionway to pick up his ditty bag. He meant to go straight home to Seaforth, catching a number 17 tram from the Pier Head to the Rimrose Bridge and surprising the family by bursting in upon them just as they were sitting down to their main meal of the day. He imagined, since it was seven in the evening already, that the boys would be back from the fishing and Bill from the market, and he found himself greatly looking forward to seeing them all again. He had brought tobacco for the boys and Bill, a feather boa for Suzie and a hand-painted fan for Becky, depicting a man and a woman dancing flamenco, and a little tambourine made of chicken skin stretched over a frame with brass discs round the edge.

It was a fine evening and as Paddy climbed aboard the tram he had to fight a terrible urge to jump off again and make his way to Huskisson Street. He could make some excuse, he told himself, say he thought Becky might be visiting there . . . but he was firm. Such an action could only lead to more pain, more misunderstanding and was best totally banished from his mind. So he took his seat on the tram, choosing the open upper deck since it was such a warm evening, and watched with increasing pleasure as the vehicle rattled along Great Howard Street. The shops were doing a roaring trade and several times Paddy actually recognised someone, either from his school or a customer to whom he had sold shrimps.

He got off the tram at the terminus without having spoken to anyone and made his way along Crosby Road, whistling a tune beneath his breath and feeling the first stirrings of delighted anticipation. He told himself he couldn’t wait to see the lads again, but knew his excitement lay in some strange way deeper than that. You can’t be such a fool as to imagine you’re going to have a second chance with Amy, he thought derisively, unwilling to acknowledge that the excitement could be caused by such an unlikely event. And presently he put the whole matter out of his mind as he began to recognise the houses of friends and Seafield Grove drew near.

Turning into the jigger which ran along the back of the houses made him think of Gran, and he felt a stab of regret that he would not be able to tell her how his life had changed and his horizons broadened. She would have been interested; the sights, smells and sounds he had experienced, the adventures which had come his way, the new friends he had made would have fascinated her. His mam, though she loved him, had her new family and would not have the sort of interest which Gran would have shown. The lads, Albert and Gus, had their own lives to lead and might even feel a little jealous, a little left out, when he began to tell his stories.

He crossed the yard and pushed open the kitchen door. He stepped across the threshold and glanced around him; the first person he saw was Amy. She was standing by the sink, her curly hair caught back into a knot at the nape of the neck, a large calico apron enveloping her slim figure. She was washing dishes but looked up as he entered and immediately
dropped the bowl she held, which crashed to the floor and broke into a thousand pieces.

Paddy had meant to be cool to the point of coldness, should he be unfortunate enough to see Amy during his time ashore but somehow, as he saw the big green eyes slowly fill with tears and a pink flush creep into her cheeks, all his vengeful thoughts disappeared. Without at all meaning to do so, he held out his arms and Amy, with a choking little cry, flew into them.

For a long moment neither spoke nor moved, but then Amy, whose head had been nestled into the hollow of Paddy’s shoulder, drew a little away from him so that she might look into his face. ‘Paddy? What happened? Why did you go so quickly, without even saying goodbye? And it’s been over six months – the longest six months in my life, I should think – without so much as a postcard. Oh, Paddy, I’ve been so unhappy!’

‘I’ve been pretty unhappy meself,’ Paddy admitted. ‘But when you flung me necklace into the fire . . .’

‘Oh, Paddy, I never did any such thing,’ Amy gasped, snuggling close to him once more. ‘It was all a horrible accident – have you had whooping cough? Or measles?’

‘What’s that got to do wi’ anything?’ Paddy asked, but his arms tightened round her. ‘As it happens I’ve had both. But that doesn’t explain why you tried to chuck me necklace . . .’

‘It may not explain about the necklace exactly,’ Amy said, detaching herself from his embrace and beginning to pull him towards the stairs. ‘But poor old Becky’s had both – she’s still in quarantine – and she’s the only person, just about, who can explain
what happened to the necklace after Christmas. Honest to God, Paddy, there’s been so much unhappiness and misunderstanding caused by what happened – I take it you found the necklace on the mantelpiece? What made you think I’d chucked it in the fire? Not that it matters, because once you’ve spoken to Becky you’ll understand everything.’

‘Yes, but I don’t want to speak to Becky, not right now,’ Paddy said, holding her hand very tightly as they mounted the flight. ‘If
you
explain, sweetheart, that will be just fine. Why does it have to be Becky?’

But Amy would not reply, merely dimpling up at him and shaking her head, and indeed, when she ushered him into Becky’s bedroom she was glad she had not tried to untangle the web. Becky was leaning back against her pillows, playing rather listlessly with a jigsaw on a tray set out across her knees, but as soon as she saw Paddy she sat bolt upright, sending jigsaw and tray bouncing unheeded across the floor. ‘Paddy!’ she squeaked, scrambling on to her knees and flinging her arms around his neck in a suffocating hug. ‘Oh, Paddy, don’t be cross with Amy ’cos it were me that took the necklace. I only meant to show it to me pals . . .’

The story came pouring out as Paddy sat down on the bed and settled Becky on his knee, telling her comfortingly that it was quite all right, he and Amy had sorted themselves out and now that he knew no one had intended to throw the necklace away he was quite happy. ‘Why, if I weren’t happy I wouldn’t be going to marry the girl just as soon as I’ve found us a place to live,’ he said, grinning up at Amy with a wicked twinkle in his dark eyes.

Amy took a deep breath to tell Paddy what she thought of him, then expelled it once more in a long,
whistling sigh. After all, she already knew she wanted to be with Paddy for the rest of her life, so marriage seemed the obvious step. The fact that he had informed Becky of his intention before so much as mentioning it to her was just typical of him. ‘Never take anything – or anyone – for granted, Paddy Keagan’, Amy said with mock severity. ‘There’s a jug of fresh lemonade cooling in the sink, Becky, and just before Paddy arrived I’d taken a batch of scones out of the new oven. Could you do with a little snack, queen? Because I’m sure Paddy would like to have a bit of a wash and a mouthful to eat before the rest of the family arrive back.’ She had not said anything about Suzie, but thought she would do so presently and would let Paddy take her the cup of tea, which she usually made for her stepmother at this time of day.

‘Ooh, Amy, I love your home-made lemonade and I love scones with butter on as well,’ Becky said eagerly. ‘Can Paddy come and sit with me while I have me tea?’

‘We’ll see,’ Amy said, crossing her fingers behind her back. ‘Now get back into bed, queen, and I’ll make you tidy.’

Presently, returning to the kitchen, she found Paddy had had a quick wash and was vigorously drying himself with the roller towel on the back of the door. Amy poured tea into four enamel mugs, sliced and buttered a plate of scones and turned to Paddy. ‘I didn’t tell you before because I thought you’d had enough news for a while,’ she observed. ‘But Paddy, my love, your mam is having her afternoon rest because she went and caught the measles and has been pretty ill herself. If you’d like to take her tea up . . .’

But Paddy, ignoring her words, had come round the table in a couple of long strides and caught hold of her by the shoulders, staring anxiously down into her face. ‘Dearest Amy, I were so gobsmacked to find you here that I never wondered
why
you weren’t at the Adelphi, or in Huskisson Street. Now I come to look at you, though, it’s clear as crystal that you’ve been nursin’ Becky and me mam, and you’re fair worn out. Why, girl, you’re as white as a cod’s underbelly!’

Amy tried to pull away from him, but such maidenly shrinking was foiled by Paddy’s fingers simply tightening their grip. ‘Why couldn’t you say my face was white as pear blossom?’ she enquired aggrievedly. ‘Why does it always have to be perishin’ fish?’

Paddy laughed and dropped a kiss on the end of her nose. ‘Well, I’m used to seeing you with cheeks as pink as a shrimp . . .’ he began and had to dodge the swipe which Amy aimed at him. ‘Now, now, no violence, or you won’t get the pretty present I’ve brought back for you from halfway across the world. Look, Amy, just because we’re having a bit of a joke, that doesn’t mean I’m not grateful for what you’ve done for me mam, who wasn’t that good to you when you were small. Why, you must have risked losing your job to take care of mam and little Becky – you’re one of the best, so you are.’

‘Your mam and I have been getting on much better for some while and I must say she’s done everything she could to help me, once she was well enough to get out of bed,’ Amy told him. ‘Besides, she’s your mother, so I would have done all I could for your sake, old Paddy. As for my job, they’ve told
me to stay away until I’m clear of quarantine, so
that’s
all right. Now what was that about a present?’

Paddy dug a hand into his pocket, then held his clenched fist out enticingly. ‘Are all our differences over, or shall I find another pretty lady to wear my gift?’

Amy smiled and held out her hand. The next moment she was gasping with surprise and pleasure as Paddy slowly opened his fingers, around which hung the necklace of gold and jade. ‘You had it all the time!’ she said, her eyes glowing. ‘So you really did think I’d thrown it away, it didn’t get knocked into the fire like I imagined. Oh, Paddy, you must’ve thought that I was the most ungrateful girl in the world. Only . . . only why didn’t you tell me you’d found it, confront me with what you thought I’d done?’

‘I dunno,’ Paddy said briefly. ‘I guess I was a fool, but I thought you were trying to tell me you didn’t want
anything
from me, not my presents, nor my kisses, nor the necklace. So I . . . I berthed aboard the SS
Frederica
and tried to forget all about you.’ His fingers were at her neck, fumbling to get the little catch done up and Amy took hold of his shoulders and stood on tiptoe to kiss his chin.

She began to tell him how sorry she had been and how very happy she was now, and how they must never let such a misunderstanding arise again, but she had barely got two words out when she realised that Paddy was lifting her into his arms and that his face was getting closer and closer . . .

Presently they moved apart, both more than a little breathless. ‘For a first kiss that was really something,’ Amy murmured, gazing up at Paddy with shining eyes. ‘All those wasted years, Paddy,
years when we spent all our energy in hating one another when we could have been doing . . . doing . . .’

‘First kiss?’ Paddy said, grinning all over his face. ‘It might have been your first kiss, queen, but I’ve been practising up and down the coast of South America. Just so that I’d do it properly when I came home to you, of course,’ he added kindly.

‘I meant the first kiss between us two,’ Amy said with what dignity she could muster. ‘I’ve had a feller or two since you went, you cocky Keagan! Oh, I suppose you don’t know that one of our room shares, Ella, got married last month? She married Philip Grimshaw, you remember him. And Mary is marrying a Welshman with two little sons – Haydn Lloyd his name is. And Gus and Minnie’s going steady, and Albert and Ruthie . . .’

‘My God, they’ll have to call Huskisson Street the marriage mart,’ Paddy said, taking the mug of tea and a scone and beginning to climb the stairs.

Amy, following him with Becky’s tea, nodded. ‘You’re right there – and one more small piece of news. Peggy Higgins and that sailor she left our Gus for have split up, and Peggy came round here, sweet as sugar, to tell Gus she’d made an awful mistake and would he have her back? You can guess what Gus said to her.’

Paddy chuckled. ‘Just about,’ he agreed. He flung open the door of his mother’s room and entered, the tray balanced precariously on one hand. ‘Guess who’s come home from the sea . . .’ he began and was interrupted by a shriek like a steam train’s whistle, as his mother leapt from her bed and charged across the room to throw her arms round her son’s neck. Amy stood and smiled as tea, tray
and plate of buttered scones flew in three different directions while Paddy, laughing, tried to greet his mother, get her back into bed and answer the questions she was firing at him all at the same time. Amy stole forward and closed Suzie’s bedroom door quietly, then returned to Becky. Sitting on her sister’s bed she reflected that it was only right Suzie should have her son to herself for a bit after his long absence. For Amy there would be plenty of time – a lifetime, in fact.