Queen of the Mersey Read Free Page A

design grand buildings. He had intended to take a degree in the subject at university. Instead, he hadn’t even completed his final year at St Jude’s, missing his matriculation.
    ‘Our George is a builder’s mate. He sawed the tip of his finger off on his first day. Fortunately, it was on his left hand, so it didn’t inconvenience him too much.’ Vera had gone into the kitchen while imparting this piece of information.
    She returned with tea in two severely cracked cups that didn’t match the saucers. ‘You don’t come from Liverpool, do you, luv? At least, you haven’t got the accent.’
    ‘No, I’m from Sussex, a little village not far from Eastbourne.’ She didn’t add, ‘Where my father is the vicar,’ and wondered, as she often did, if he was sorry he’d sworn never to speak to her again. He’d probably thought she’d return home with her tail between her legs, meekly beg his forgiveness, profess sorrow for the sin that he would never cease to remind her of for the remainder of his days. It hadn’t entered his head that she and Roddy loved each other so much they were prepared to run away. They’d never regretted it, even though they’d ended up in Bootle, in Glover Street, so different to anything they’d known when growing up that it could have been in China.
    Hester came running in. ‘Mummy!’ she cried, as if Laura had been there all the time. ‘I’ve got a bump on my head. Mary hit me with the bat.’
    ‘It was only an accident.’ Mary followed behind, a pretty girl, with short, dark, curly hair and a mischievous face. ‘Anyroad, she knocked the ball right into me belly. I bet I’ve got a bump there too.’
    ‘I didn’t mean to,’ exclaimed Hester.
    ‘Neither did I.’ The two girls glared at each other, until Mary said, ‘Would you like to come upstairs and play with me dolls?’
    ‘Yes, please!’
    ‘Come on, then.’ They rushed out of the room and their light footsteps could be heard scrambling up the stairs. Laura felt a tiny bit hurt that she hadn’t been missed, but then supposed it was a good thing. Hester was starting school in September. Mother and daughter would be separated for the first time. It would help if she got used to other people in the meantime.
    ‘She’s not a bit like you – Hester,’ Vera remarked.
    ‘No, she’s got thinner features, like Roddy, but the person she’s most like is my mother.’
    ‘I bet she’s pleased about that, your mam.’
    ‘I’m afraid she’s dead. She died when I was eleven.’ Her father had immediately packed his only child off to boarding school. He’d always been disappointed that she wasn’t a boy. Laura had often wondered what her mother’s reaction would have been when she’d had to confess she was pregnant.
    ‘I’ve seen your husband on his way to work. He’s very handsome, lovely and tall.’
    ‘Isn’t he!’ Laura glowed. She was neither tall nor short and her own face had been described as ‘wholesome’. It had character, she’d been told. Her eyes were a quite ordinary brown, her mouth far too wide, and her nose was merely a nose, not quite straight, but almost. Her best feature was her hair, which was glossy black and very thick and wavy. It was the only thing about her that the girls at school had envied. She wore it long and held back with a slide. It looked old-fashioned, but Roddy liked it, and that was all that mattered.
    ‘Has Mary started school yet?’ she asked.
    ‘No, luv. She starts next term at St Joan of Arc.’
    ‘Hester’s going to Salisbury Road. It’s not that far away.’
    ‘You’re not Catholic, then?’
    ‘No.’ Laura took a sip of the tea, which was lovely and strong. ‘I’ll take Mary to school for you, if you like,’ she offered. She felt almost glad Roddy had fallen off the ladder. It had enabled her to get to know at least one of her neighbours. They’d lived in the street for almost a year and this was the first proper conversation she’d had with anyone other than her husband. She was too shy, too unhappy, and had imagined people making fun of