Queen of the Mersey Read Free

life; the rumble of the overhead railway, the crisp clip-clop of a horse and cart on the cobbles, the clatter of lorries. She would look at the sun through the bedroom window if it was shining, savour it, knowing that, unless she managed to get out of the house, she might not see it again that day.
    Lately, Vera Monaghan had wished she didn’t wake quite so early. She’d sooner not have her thoughts to herself. During those dawn hours, she’d imagined the boys leaving home, getting married, happily settling down and providing her with grandchildren whom she would love to bits. When that happened, she would move back to Southey Street with Albert and Mary. But now the only thing that preoccupied her was the war that was likely to start any minute. There were signs of it everywhere; air raid shelters had appeared at the end of every other street and gas masks had been delivered – Vera had hidden theirs in the cellar so she wouldn’t be reminded of the horror that might face them. Worst of all, she had four strong lads over eighteen who would make fine soldiers; Dick had left home when he got married, the others might be leaving much sooner than expected, and Vera wasn’t sure if she could stand it.
    Laura Oliver hurried down loathsome Glover Street, also worried about the war, about her husband, about her daughter, about every damn thing. How long would Roddy be off work with a sprained ankle? She supposed she should thank God it hadn’t been broken when he’d fallen off that stupid ladder. On the other hand, a broken ankle might have delayed his call-up, even put it off for ever. She’d known a chap who’d broken his leg falling off a horse and he’d walked with a limp ever after. Roddy wouldn’t be allowed in the Services with a limp. On the other hand, would he still be able to climb a ladder?
    She knocked on the open door of number seventeen, the house where she’d left Hester, and prayed she hadn’t been too distressed without her mummy. The woman in the house was obscenely overweight, but looked quite kind. Her husband went out in a uniform of some sort, so clearly had a respectable job, and she had a whole tribe of very presentable sons as well as an impish little daughter, always laughing, unlike Hester who hardly laughed at all.
    The fat woman came into the hall and gave her a warm smile. ‘Oh, there you are, luv! I’ve been thinking about you all afternoon. How’s your husband? Hester’s in the yard with our Mary playing bat and ball. Come in, girl. I’ve just put the kettle on for a cuppa.’
    ‘I should be getting back … oh, but I’d love a cup of tea. Thank you.’ Laura was drawn to the caring, sympathetic face, the warm smile. She was badly in need of sympathy at the moment. ‘I’d better introduce myself,’ she said courteously.
    ‘I’m Laura Oliver.’
    ‘And I’m Vera Monaghan. Laura’s a pretty name. I’ve never come across it before.’
    She followed Vera Monaghan along the narrow hall into a comfortable room overlooking the tiny backyard. It had too much furniture, most of it chairs. A mother-of-pearl crucifix stood in the centre of the mantelpiece, accompanied by holy statues and photographs of the Monaghans’ numerous children at various stages of their lives.
    ‘How’s your husband?’ Vera asked again.
    ‘It turns out it was only a sprained ankle. He fell off a ladder.’
    ‘That’s good, luv. Still, a sprain can be very painful.’
    ‘Yes, but he thought he’d broken it, so he’s quite pleased. They’re sending him home in an ambulance later this afternoon. Has Hester been all right?’ she asked anxiously.
    ‘She was a bit upset at first, but she soon settled down. She ate a good dinner, and she’s been with Mary in the yard ever since. I’m afraid her frock’s got a bit dirty.’
    ‘That doesn’t matter.’
    ‘What was your husband doing up the ladder?’ Vera enquired.
    ‘Putting in a window.’ Laura grimaced. ‘He works for a builder.’ It hurt to say it. Roddy’s ambition had been to become an architect,