Christmas on the Mersey. Annie GrovesЧитать онлайн книгу.
film was it?’ Mrs Kerrigan was also very suspicious. ‘I’ve seen all of George Formby’s.’
‘Let George Do It. Mam loves him playing his ukulele.’ She breathed a sigh of relief when Mrs Kerrigan seemed satisfied. Nancy had overheard two women in the corner shop regaling the merits of the film yesterday, and if Mrs Kerrigan found out Nancy had been drinking in the parlour of the Sailor’s Rest with Gloria, she knew she would never hear the end of it.
‘What about Sunday?’
‘Me and Gloria went to see that Margaret Lockwood film about a girl who went to a concentration camp and befriended a man who turns out to be a Nazi spy. We don’t go out as often as we used to, you know.’
‘I should think not! My Sid would be ever so upset. What woman wants to see her brave son’s wife behaving like a tuppenny trollop? I can’t turn a blind eye. People will talk.’
‘I beg your pardon!’ Nancy could not believe her ears. ‘Are you saying I’m up to no good?’ She put her hands on her hips. Mrs Kerrigan was the limit! Nancy certainly got lots of attention from men when they were out. Gloria was something of a local celebrity and they were never short of company, but Nancy was well aware that she was a married woman and didn’t need reminding by busybodies like Mrs Kerrigan.
‘Well, you must admit, there aren’t many other girls gallivanting around like you are while their husbands are off fighting.’
This said much for Mrs Kerrigan’s sheltered life because Nancy knew that there were other girls who were far from squeaky clean. You would have to have your head in the sand not to be aware of some of the things that were going on. The city was now flooded with servicemen, not just from other parts of the country but from all around the world. Many women who were without their husbands and fiancés were taking up offers of a night out from the Canadian and Polish servicemen, and didn’t they all know that while the cat’s away the mice will have their little bit of fun? Why shouldn’t they? thought Nancy. Who knew what tomorrow might bring? Her Sid might be killed and where would she and little Georgie be left then? She looked over at her son, sitting happily in his playpen playing with his pull-along dog. He looked just like his dad. For a moment, Nancy had an uncomfortable vision of Sid, somewhere in Europe, held prisoner God only knew where. Was he thinking of them now? She pushed the thought away. No, it wouldn’t do to dwell.
‘I’m thinking of getting a job in one of those munitions factories, if you must know!’ Nancy did not know where the idea came from but thinking on it now, it was clear that all the women she knew who had gone back to work were having a ball. Nancy missed her job at the George Henry Lee department store. She loved the gossip and the camaraderie as well as all that extra money in her purse. Not that there would be much to buy soon if this rationing lark continued.
‘And who’s going to look after little Georgie, might I ask?’ Mrs Kerrigan said with a look that suggested there was a bad smell under her pointed nose.
‘Mam said she’d do it.’ Nancy’s fingers were crossed behind her back. She would have to ask her mother, but she was confident Mam would not let her down.
The look on Mrs Kerrigan’s face was priceless. ‘In my day it was unheard of for a married woman to go out to work – unless she was very poor or widowed.’
‘Well, now they’re in uniform and doing jobs deemed fit only for men just a couple of years ago!’ Nancy answered, knowing she would have enjoyed going into the Forces. All those strong, virile men … However, her mother-in-law’s stern expression did not encourage frivolity, so she said with every ounce of patriotic fervour she could muster, ‘While our men are in the Armed Forces, us women have got to keep the country going.’
‘Heaven help us if they’re all like you!’ Mrs Kerrigan muttered under her breath, though loud enough for Nancy to hear, and made the sign of the cross on her chest. Nancy decided to ignore the slight and taking a deep breath she tried to remain dignified like Mam said she should – turn the other cheek and all that.
‘Mr Churchill said everyone’s home is on the “front line”, so we have to be vigilant.’
‘Did he now?’ Mrs Kerrigan’s ever-flaring nostrils were dancing now, while Nancy, with a lot of effort, remained serene on the outside.
‘If women work like men, then I believe they have the right to relax any way they choose,’ Nancy said. ‘Women are coping very well without the help of their husbands.’
‘Oh, I know you are,’ Mrs Kerrigan pointed out. ‘But you and your kind would never have behaved in such a carefree way in my day. It wouldn’t have been allowed.’
‘Just as well I wasn’t around in your day then,’ Nancy smiled, but inside she was fuming. Who died and left you a day? Her own mother would not have said such things. She’d had enough. Why the hell shouldn’t she have the odd night out? She didn’t care if Mrs Kerrigan told Sid or not!
‘Just so you know,’ Nancy said in a tone sweet enough to encourage diabetes, ‘I’m going to see Gloria, who’s singing in the Adelphi again tonight. I don’t know how she manages to entertain such big audiences after working all day in munitions – twice since last Friday, in fact – while some people just sit at home criticising and leaving others to do all the hard work!’
Mrs Kerrigan’s voice was now a pathetic whine. ‘Last night’s raid frightened the life out of me. I thought my end had come! While you’re out the Nazis could make their way over here and carry me off.’
‘They might take you, but they’d soon bring you back,’ Nancy muttered under her breath, then said out loud, the clips still between her teeth, ‘I was only next door in the parlour last night, Mrs Kerrigan, and I won’t be long tonight.’ The Allies could use her as an early warning signal, she thought: she screams before the enemy planes have turned on their engines.
There was a moment’s silence and Nancy imagined Mrs Kerrigan was looking for something else to carp about. It didn’t take her long to find it.
‘My poor Sid – how can you bear to go out and enjoy yourself, knowing that poor Sidney is suffering? He could be ill or injured and you don’t seem to care.’
‘Of course I care about Sid too! Just because you’re crying into the bottom of your teacup all of the time, doesn’t give you the moral high ground, you know,’ Nancy answered, knowing if Mrs Kerrigan couldn’t get her one way she would get her another. If Sid was ill the Red Cross would tell them, wouldn’t they? Nancy put the hot prickle at the back of her neck down to annoyance rather than the guilt she knew she should be feeling for not missing Sid like she should. It was Mrs Kerrigan’s fault she felt that way – emotional blackmail was her mother-in-law’s speciality. It’s what kept Sid tied to her apron strings for so long. No wonder Mr Kerrigan, her husband, worked nights on The Liverpool Post and no one ever saw him. He was probably desperate to get away from her.
‘He could have had anybody he wanted.’ Sid’s mother brought the brown earthenware teapot from the range in the kitchen and poured herself a cup of stewed black tea, not offering any to Nancy. Not that Nancy was in the least bit bothered; her mother-in-law’s tea, left to steep, would strip the taste buds from your tongue, it was that strong.
‘When he gets home he will have eyes for nobody except me!’ Nancy’s honeyed words had the desired effect and Sid’s mother flounced out of the back kitchen.
‘Well, just you think on, lady – I tell him everything in my letters,’ Mrs Kerrigan shouted from the kitchen.
I bet you do, you nosy old bag. And what you don’t know you’ll make up.
Nancy secured the last clip and looked at herself in the mirror. She was pleased with the reflection that stared back at her. How could Mrs Kerrigan expect her to stay in night after night, keeping her company? Nancy might be married but she wasn’t dead!
‘Tell him I’m keeping my pecker up – for little Georgie’s sake! We’ve