That Liverpool Girl by Ruth Hamilton Read Free Book Online Page B

and they hadn’t yet reached the terrible teen years. Quite frequently, it took all three female members of the household to find them, as they had no sense of time, no sense of much, in fact. They ran for illegal bookies, helped fence stuff stolen from the docks, were involved directly or peripherally with most minor crimes that took place in the Cazneau Street and Scotland Road areas of Liverpool, and were completely out of hand on a regular basis. They were noisy, naughty, disobedient and irreverent. ‘Mam, you can’t do it.’
    ‘I can and I will. You just watch me. And there’s a fair bit more to Hilda Pickavance than any of us thought.’ There was more to Nellie’s Eileen, too. She’d read all the classics, had educated herself to a high standard . . .
    Eileen sighed. ‘This house will be dangerous whether there are two of us or six of us living in it.’
    Nellie had thought about that, too. Eileen cleaned for a Miss Morrison in Blundellsands. Miss Morrison was growing frail. With only herself and Mel to care for, Eileen might volunteer to help the elderly lady and take shelter in lieu of pay. Mel could walk to school, and Eileen would be living near to all the houses she cleaned. ‘I know you’re meeting Mel outside Merchants at four o’clock, but that doesn’t stop you going to talk to Miss Morrison first, eh? I mean, you’ve nothing to lose and everything to gain.’
    ‘But Mam—’
    ‘But nothing. There are men up at Willows, and there are no docks, no shops, no bookies. I may not know them, but I reckon Jay from the gatehouse, that Neil from Willows Home Farm and Keith will be able to handle our three rogues. Ask yourself this, Eileen. Can you leave her? Can you walk away from that girl?’
    ‘Oh, Mam. The boys’ll kill you. They’re too much. We should offer them to the government as weaponry.’
    ‘Look, I’ll have help. They can run wild where there’s no damage to be done. And it’ll be all hands on deck when the show kicks off, because young ones will do the work of men, men who’ll be off fighting the bloody Germans.’
    It was a dilemma. Eileen could stay behind with her daughter, and might save that daughter from any potential mishaps. In doing that, she could be signing her own mother’s death warrant, because the three boys were hard to handle. But Mel needed looking after. She was not a parcel to be passed over for the duration, something that could be picked up from Lost Property after the war had run its course. ‘Hilda’s going to run a little school at the big house. How on earth will she cope with our Albert?’ Albert, usually named Bertie, was the one who had stolen the horse.
    ‘Hilda could just surprise us all yet,’ replied Nellie. ‘She might not have lived our life, but she’s been in these parts for long enough to know what goes on. With a cane, a blackboard and a bit of chalk, she’ll come into her own, I reckon. There’s a streak in her, Eileen. It’s something I’ve seen in our Mel, and I think it’s called bloody-mindedness. Listen to me. Give it a try. If we can’t manage, I’ll let you know. Anyway, you have to speak to Miss Morrison first. Let’s not make the horse jump before we’ve got to the hurdle, eh? Save your energy for later.’
    A subdued and thoughtful Eileen Watson found herself wandering the streets of Crosby that afternoon. This, the main village, had wonderful shops, thatched cottages and pleasant, dignified people. She didn’t notice the men who stared at her, failed to realize that she was causing quite a stir in Hilda’s suit, blouse and shoes. But with only two hours to spare before collecting Mel, she set off up Manor Road towards the truly select houses. On St Michael’s Road, she opened a gate, walked up the path, and inserted her key in the door of Miss Morrison’s detached residence.
    The old lady was happy but surprised to see her cleaner. ‘Have I got my days wrong again?’ she asked. ‘I think I’m getting worse