Flowers on the Mersey Read Free Page A

what it is. You want to make sure that …’
    ‘No!’ he interrupted. ‘That’s not my reason. Think, girl. There was no need for me to follow you here. I could have just run.’ He added in a softer voice. ‘Wait for me here by the river. Give me a quarter of an hour.’
    She laughed sharply. ‘You said five minutes, five minutes ago! There’s no cause for me to wait. I can’t wait! I’m meeting—’
    But he was already running up the street. ‘Wait!’ he called.
    For several minutes Rebekah stood looking after him. He was crazy to think she would hang about for him. Her father would be furious if he knew that she had said as much as a good morning to a rebel. He had been paranoid for months, fearing a shot in the back because he worked for a British civil administration in utter chaos due to Sinn Fein’s refusal to accept the ruling of British law courts and the collection of taxes. Besides, Willie would be waiting for her. It would be sensible to go right now. She chewed a strand of her hair. He had probably only told her to wait to give him and his brother time to get away. She should have marched straight to the barracks and told the soldiers what had happened, never mind standing and listening to his excuses. He didn’t fire the gun … So? He had still been there, and his brother had. Why had she stayed listening to him? He was not even what you wouldcall devastatingly handsome or even very tall. The dark part she would grant him, and he had brown eyes that had a way of looking at her that made her – No, she would not think of how he made her feel. He was not worth wasting her thoughts on. She shifted her feet restlessly. He had a button missing from the top of his shirt and wore no collar. Wasn’t there a woman in his life to sew a button on?
    A tap on her shoulder caused her to whirl round. ‘I’m glad you waited,’ said Daniel. He had been less than ten minutes.
    She tilted her chin. ‘Who said I was waiting for you?’ She turned and began to walk away.
    He fell into step beside her. ‘If you were waiting for someone else, he obviously hasn’t turned up.’
    ‘I wasn’t meeting him here.’ She did not wait for him to ask where but said stiffly. ‘Is Old Mary all right? The Black and Tans will search the street and ask questions.’
    ‘I doubt she’ll tell them anything.’
    ‘Probably not.’ Rebekah pushed back a strand of blonde-streaked brown hair from her eyes and sought safety in thinking of the old woman. ‘Her memory’s queer. She can talk about the old days like they were yesterday, but yesterday might never have happened.’
    He nodded. ‘You must have a lot of patience. I found it hard going because she kept thinking I was a lad after I told her who I was.’
    ‘I listen more than talk.’ She glanced at him andthen away. He looked like he needed feeding up.
    ‘Why do you visit her?’ His voice was curious. ‘How did you get to know her? It couldn’t have been through the priest if you’re a Quaker.’
    ‘Her grandson’s name was on the list of those killed fighting for the British in the war,’ she said in her quick, light manner of speaking. ‘Mama and I started visiting. It was our bit for the war effort. We’d heard that the Friends – Quakers to you – were visiting families in Liverpool, you see.’
    ‘I see.’ He made no further comment as they came to O’Connell’s Bridge with its customary collection of beggars, some with missing limbs. One was selling shoelaces. Rebekah paused and bought some and Daniel followed suit, murmuring, ‘Bloody war. Why did they go and volunteer?’
    She remained silent, although she could have said there had been plenty in Ireland glad to take the King’s shilling during the Great War because they were unemployed and their families hungry. It made her angry that those in Ireland killing each other could not use their energies to join forces and fight those kinds of evils in both countries.
    Daniel said, ‘Do we