Winnie of the Waterfront Read online

  She was so engrossed in her thoughts that she wasn’t looking where she was going and accidentally placed one of her sticks on a discarded banana skin and found herself falling. Terror-stricken, she cried out, and suddenly there was a pair of strong arms grabbing her and hauling her upright again.

  As she looked round to thank the person who had prevented her from crashing to the ground she drew her breath in sharply.

  ‘Sandy? Sandy Coulson?’

  The broad-shouldered, red-haired chap who had come to her aid let out a long low whistle.

  ‘Winnie Malloy? I don’t believe it!’

  Winnie found herself swept off her feet in a bear hug that took her breath away. When he released her he held her at arm’s length, his green eyes surveying her from top to toe in amazement.

  ‘I never thought I was ever going to see you again,’ he laughed. ‘They stuck you in the Holy Cross Orphanage after your mam died, didn’t they?’

  ‘That’s right. I came out last Sunday. It was my fourteenth birthday last Wednesday.’

  ‘Fourteen! Remember when I used to push you to school in that invalid chair your dad made for you?’

  Winnie’s eyes misted. ‘How could I ever forget, you were such a good friend in those days.’

  ‘In those days? What do you mean by that, Winnie Malloy? I can still be a good friend, if you’ll let me.’

  Winnie turned scarlet. ‘I don’t live around here any more.’

  He raised his eyebrows. ‘You giving me the brush-off?’

  ‘No, no, of course not. I’d like us to still be friends. I’ve missed you a lot.’

  He nodded, running his hand through his red hair. ‘What is it, five years since you left Carswell Court, the place you moved to after Elias Street?’

  ‘About that!’

  ‘So where are you living now?’

  ‘In a hostel,’ she pulled a face, ‘and I’m working as a packer at Johnson’s Mantles.’

  He gave her a quizzical look. ‘You don’t like it there?’

  She shook her head. ‘Not really.’

  He listened in silence as she told him about the work she was doing and about the people she worked alongside.

  ‘They sound a right miserable bunch,’ he agreed.

  ‘A couple of them are all right. I came here with two of them, Sonia and Maggie. Bert, the charge hand, doesn’t like me much. Complains all the time about my sticks being in his way.’

  ‘I noticed you’re managing on sticks these days,’ Sandy said casually. ‘Do you get on OK with them?’

  ‘Not really. I had a proper wheelchair all the time I was at the orphanage, but it belonged to them so I had to give it up when I left there last Sunday.’

  ‘You could always get another one?’

  ‘Pigs might fly!’

  ‘What sort of answer is that?’

  ‘Well, where do you think I am going to get the money to buy a wheelchair? They pay washers at Johnson’s!’

  ‘Then change your job.’

  ‘I’d like to do that, but I can’t see anyone employing a cripple like me, can you?’

  Before Sandy could answer, Sonia and Maggie came looking for her. They’d both found the bargains they’d hoped to buy and now they were anxious to get home so that they could have a meal and be ready to go out dancing later on.

  ‘Didn’t take you long to get off with someone,’ Maggie snapped.

  ‘She simply fell at my feet,’ Sandy told them. ‘Lots of girls do that,’ he added, winking at Winnie.

  Since he didn’t seem to want to disclose the fact that they were old friends, Winnie kept up the pretence that they had only just met for the first time.

  She stood quietly to one side as Sandy chatted up Sonia and Maggie, playing them off, one against the other, teasing and flirting with them both.

  ‘If we’re going to get ready for that dance tonight, Sonia, then we ought to be getting back home,’ Maggie urged.

  ‘Oright!’ Sonia gave Sandy a bright smile. ‘Fancy coming with us?’ she invited.

  ‘No,’ he grinned. ‘I’ve got other fish to fry.’

  ‘Be like that,’ Maggie retorted huffily. ‘We only asked.’

  Sandy smiled, but said nothing.

  ‘Come on then, kiddo.’ Sonia reached out to take Winnie’s arm.

  ‘I’ll see her home,’ Sandy told her.

  ‘You will?’

  ‘Yeah! Why not?’

  ‘Suit yourself,’ Maggie shrugged. ‘You know she can’t walk without those sticks though, don’t you?’

  ‘Then she won’t be going dancing with you two, will she,’ Sandy retorted.

  Sonia and Maggie exchanged looks, then they linked arms and walked off in high dudgeon.

  ‘Those are two of the girls you work with?’ Sandy questioned.

  ‘They’re two of the nicer ones.’

  ‘No wonder you don’t like it there,’ he said lugubriously. ‘Never mind. Just let me pack up things here and lock everything away and then we’ll go to Lyons Corner House and have a good long chat.’

  ‘Sorry, Sandy, I can’t do that,’ Winnie told him uneasily.

  ‘Why not? You’re not planning on doing anything else except getting a tram back to the hostel, are you?’

  She shook her head.

  ‘Then why not come to Lyons Corner House with me?’

  Winnie looked uneasy. ‘I … I can’t afford it,’ she said ruefully.

  ‘Did I say you’d be the one who was paying?’ he frowned.

  ‘No … but …’

  ‘There are no buts. When I ask a girl out, I pay, and no argument,’ he told her sternly.

  Because it was so busy with people leaving the market they realised they would have a long wait for a tram into Lord Street, so they ended up going to the Kardomah, which was nearer.

  Sandy found them a corner table, made sure Winnie was comfortable, then ordered a pot of tea and Welsh rarebit for both of them. When Winnie tried to protest he told her that he always popped in there for a meal about this time on a Saturday.

  ‘I have work to do after the market shuts down, which isn’t until about ten o’clock tonight. I’m a porter so I have to help clear up.’

  ‘You haven’t got a stall?’

  Sandy shook his head. ‘I’ll have one soon. I’m looking into it. Trying to decide what sort of goods to handle. I’m watching points and trying to find out which sort of things sell best and which you make the most money from before I make my mind up.’

  When they’d finished their Welsh rarebit, Sandy insisted that they both have another cup of tea and a pudding.

  ‘They do a great suet duff with custard,’ he told Winnie.

  ‘I’m full,’ she laughed. ‘That was lovely, something I haven’t had for as long as I can remember.’

  ‘You must have a pudding,’ he insisted. ‘If you don’t want suet duff then how about some ice-cream?’

  As she pushed her empty dish away, Winnie thought it was the best day she’d ever had. Seeing Sandy again had been wonderful. Having a meal with him and being able to talk to someone who understood her problems and cared about them was an added bonus.

  ‘Come on, things should have quietened down by now so I’ll see you back to the hostel and then I’ll have to come back to work.’

  ‘No, you don’t need to do that. I can get a tram, honest!’

  ‘I’ll see you onto the tram then, if you are sure you can manage at the other end.’

  Before he waved her goodbye, Sandy made her promise that they’d meet up again soon. ‘I’ll see if I can find you a job at the market if you like,’ he offered. ‘Although it might mean long hours,’ he warned.

  ‘Would you? That would be wonderful. I feel like a prisoner in that factory. It’s no better than being locked away in the orphanage.’

  ‘Come and see me again next Saturday,’ he told her as they heard the tram clanging towards where they were standing. ‘I can’t promise anything, but I’ll ask around and see
what I can do.’

  ‘Thank you, Sandy.’

  ‘That’s all right, kiddo, it’s nice to have you back.’ He kissed her on the cheek and helped her up onto the tram. ‘Take care now. See you next week, don’t forget.’

  Even though she knew it meant missing breakfast, Winnie stayed in bed the next morning. It seemed wonderful to be able to lie there dozing and dreaming and reliving her meeting with Sandy. She’d often thought about him, but seeing him again and finding that he hadn’t really changed, except to become even nicer, made her hope that they would see a lot more of each other in the future.

  When she did finally get up it was almost half past ten and she toyed with the idea of going to Mass at St Francis’s like she’d done as a child. Then the thought that she might bump into Sandy and he might think she was chasing after him stopped her.

  It was a glorious warm morning, so instead of going to Mass she took a tram down to the Pier Head. She found a bench in the sunshine and sat there, gazing out across the sun-kissed water of the Mersey to where the purple outlines of the Welsh mountains were visible in the distance.

  She watched enviously as the crowds made their way down the floating roadway and boarded the ferryboats to cross over to Wallasey and New Brighton, and wished she could afford to join them.

  Chapter Sixteen

  BY MID-AFTERNOON, HUNGER forced Winnie to think about getting back to the hostel. Apart from a cup of tea and a currant bun at midday she’d eaten nothing since the previous evening.

  Because it was Sunday there would only be a cold supper, and that would be cleared away by six o’clock. It was better than nothing, she told herself, and since it was included as part of her lodging money she might as well go and take advantage of it.

  She thought longingly of the delicious meal she’d enjoyed with Sandy the day before and wished she could treat herself to something like that, but she knew that was impossible. She had already spent most of the money they had given her when she left the orphanage and there would be no more until payday the following Friday.

  Reluctant to leave the busy waterfront she started to make her way to the tram terminus. However, she found that after sitting for so long she had stiffened up. Head down, she dragged her twisted legs up the gradient, wishing she still had her wheelchair, and wondered if she would ever be able to save up enough money to get another one like Sandy had suggested.

  ‘Winnie Malloy! Is it really you?’

  A familiar voice startled her. She looked up into the face of a young man in uniform.

  ‘Bob Flowers!’ Her eyes widened in amazement. ‘You look so grown-up!’

  She couldn’t believe what was happening. After all this time she was suddenly reunited with both Sandy Coulson and Bob Flowers, all within the space of twenty-four hours.

  ‘What are you doing struggling along on those sticks? I hardly recognised you with your hair so different. Where’s your wheelchair?’

  Winnie shrugged. ‘It belonged to the orphanage. I had to leave it behind when I left there last week.’

  ‘You’ve only been out a week? Why didn’t you let me know you were coming out. You’ve never answered any of my letters,’ he said reproachfully.

  Winnie looked at him, puzzled. ‘What letters? You never wrote to me. You promised you’d write and tell me how you were getting on and that you would let me have your address so that I could find you when I came out,’ she reminded him.

  ‘I did. I wrote to you the very next day after I left, and I sent you a card and a present at Christmas and the following Easter. Then when I didn’t hear from you I gave up trying.’

  Winnie looked taken aback. ‘I never got any of them, Bob. I thought that once you were out of the orphanage you wanted to put it all behind you. I thought that meant you didn’t want to have anything more to do with me either.’

  ‘That’s rubbish and you know it!’ he said angrily. ‘I said we’d stay friends for ever, remember? I even promised that I would try and find a place somewhere that we could share, and that we’d move in together when you came out.’

  ‘I know you did, and I believed you and was looking forward to it, but I never heard a word from you. I asked Sister Tabitha if she knew where you’d gone, or what you were doing, and she said no one had heard from you.’

  ‘I kept my promise to write to you, I swear to you I did,’ he said grimly. ‘I wonder why they didn’t give you my letters?’

  Winnie shook her head. She couldn’t understand why. She recalled all the times she’d thought about Bob and how miserable she’d felt because she’d assumed he’d forgotten all about her.

  ‘You’ve obviously made a new life for yourself,’ she commented. ‘Why are you dressed like that? You look very smart,’ she added hastily, ‘but what sort of uniform is it?’

  ‘Midshipman. As soon as I’d done my six months at the factory and knew I was free to leave there, and also to leave the hostel they put me in, I signed up to go to sea.’

  Winnie frowned. ‘That’s the same sort of life as being in the orphanage, surely?’

  ‘Not really. Most of the time you are working in the fresh air and you can see the sky and feel the sun and the wind. At night it’s wonderful to go up on deck and see the space all around you and the sky brilliant with stars. I’m sure I’ve made the right choice.’

  ‘You certainly sound content with your new life,’ she agreed. ‘So what ship are you on?’

  ‘I’m on the Patricia, which is a Blue Funnel passenger liner. We come into Liverpool every six months. I was just going back to the ship now, as we sail on tonight’s tide.’

  Winnie’s face fell. ‘Does that mean I won’t see you again for six months?’

  ‘I’m afraid so! It’s a miracle bumping into you like this.’

  ‘I know, but it’s pretty disappointing that we’re going to have to say goodbye again so soon.’

  Bob frowned. ‘I don’t have to be back onboard for another couple of hours. So, are you free for us to spend some time together?’

  ‘Well …’ Winnie hesitated. Much as she wanted to be with Bob, she was ravenously hungry, and if she wasn’t back at the hostel on time she wouldn’t get any food.

  ‘Were you going somewhere special?’ Bob persisted.

  She shook her head. ‘Only back to the hostel, but if I’m late I’ll miss my evening meal.’

  ‘Don’t worry about that. We’ll find somewhere to eat, some place where we can catch up on each other’s news. I’ve so much to tell you and I bet you’ve plenty to tell me as well.’

  He looked so pleased to see her again that Winnie accepted with alacrity. She wanted to know all about what had happened to him since he’d left Holy Cross and whether he had found it as difficult to adjust to the outside world as she had done.

  Bob glanced up at the clock face on the Liver Building. ‘I don’t think there’s time to go back up to the Lyons Corner House,’ he told her, ‘because I have to be on board by half past seven at the latest. Would you settle for fish and chips?’

  ‘As long as we can sit down to eat them,’ Winnie grinned. ‘I can’t eat and walk at the same time!’

  ‘Not with those sticks you can’t,’ he agreed. ‘Look, let’s find a spot where you can sit while I nip and get them. You’re sure now that you don’t mind eating them out of the paper with your fingers?’

  Winnie giggled. ‘It sounds fun. A bit like a picnic.’

  ‘I’ll be as quick as I can. Now promise me you won’t go running off!’

  When he returned, Winnie was glad to see that he had brought them a bottle of pop each. The fish was crisp and golden, the chips were delicious, and they tucked into them with gusto.

  ‘You must miss your wheelchair?’ Bob commented when they’d finally finished eating and he’d disposed of the greasy paper.

  ‘I do!’

  ‘You’ll have to save up for a new one.’

  ‘Not much chance of ever being able to afford one on the wages they’re paying me at Joh
nson’s Mantles.’

  Bob frowned. ‘What sort of place is that then?’

  ‘A factory where they make shirts and blouses. I’m on the assembly line where the garments are folded and packed.’

  ‘It sounds very much like the job they fixed up for me. That was in a factory and I didn’t see the outside world except on Saturday afternoons and Sundays.’ He pulled a face. ‘It was pretty grim there. Once the other chaps found out that I’d come straight from an orphanage, and that I was as green as grass, they led me a dog’s life. The foreman was as bad. I was so miserable at times I contemplated suicide, only I didn’t know how to go about it.’

  Winnie looked shocked. ‘It would be a mortal sin to do that anyway!’ she reminded him. ‘Can you imagine what the nuns would say!’

  ‘Well, rotting in Hellfires wouldn’t have been any worse than the sort of life I was living. The hostel was far stricter than the orphanage and not nearly as comfortable. The food was horrible and by the time I’d paid for my lodgings out of my wages I didn’t have enough left over to buy anything except the occasional bun.’

  ‘Why do they find us such awful jobs?’ she asked.

  ‘Not many firms want to take kids from an orphanage, that’s why.’

  ‘I would have thought we were ideal employees. We’re trained to be polite and obedient, and after being shut inside for so long we haven’t committed any sins worth talking about.’

  ‘It’s because they know nothing about our family background – we might come from a family of thieves.’

  ‘That’s what Sister Tabitha told me, but surely the nuns would tell them how we came to be in there?’

  Bob looked sceptical. ‘They’re not going to say anything bad about us, are they, because they want to get us off their hands as quickly as possible.’

  ‘They wouldn’t have to tell lies, though!’

  He shrugged. ‘Perhaps not.’

  ‘Nuns never lie!’

  He looked at her speculatively. ‘They lied about the letters I sent to you, didn’t they?’