Liverpool Annie Read online

  Annie knew it was a waste of time saying anything, and neither Mam nor Dad seemed to care. She sighed as she went to get the tea ready - Mam had given up the ghost ages ago when it came to preparing meals.

  Grenville Lucas held their customary party on the day school broke up. Lessons finished at mid-day. After a turkey dinner, festivities would transfer to the gym. It was the only day in the year when the pupils could dispense with school uniform and wear their own clothes. Marie even got up early as she couldn't make up her mind what to put on.

  Annie wore a new plaid skirt and her favourite jumper, pale blue cable knit with a polo neck. The two girls set off at half past eight full of excited anticipation, Annie little realising the day would turn out to be one of the most momentous of her life.

  In class the girls were eyeing each other with interest, assessing the various fashions, when Sylvia Delgado came in wearing the most beautiful frock Annie had

  ever seen. Made of fine, soft jersey, it was turquoise, with a high buttoned neck and full bishop sleeves gathered into long, tight cuffs. A wide, tan leather belt accentuated her incredibly slender waist.

  A girl behind gasped involuntarily, 'Doesn't she look lovely!'

  Sylvia's long blonde hair was tucked behind a gold velvet Alice band decorated with tiny pearls. When she sat down, Annie saw she was wearing tan leather boots with high heelsl Annie's skirt and jumper suddenly seemed very drab, and her feeling of envy was mixed with alarm. The outfit would drive Ruby Livesey madl

  'Who the hell does she think she is, coming to school tarted up like a bloody mannequin!' said Ruby for the fifth, possibly the sixth, time.

  Christmas dinner was over and they were in the gym watching the dancing; Mr Parrish was playing his Frank Sinatra records. Sylvia Delgado had been up for every dance, but not a single boy had approached Ruby or her gang, though some girls danced with each other. Annie felt a stirring of interest in the opposite sex. She hated dancing with girls, particularly Ruby, who insisted on being the woman and it was like pushing a carthorse round. It was particularly irritating to see Marie floating past, always in the arms of a different boy.

  'I hate her!' Ruby spat. 'If it wasn't for her, those boys'd be dancing with us.'

  The logic of this escaped Annie, as there was only one Sylvia Delgado and eleven of them. As far as she was concerned, the party had turned out to be a wash-out. She couldn't wait for it to be half past three when she could throw away her paper hat and leave - not that she intended going home. They were going shopping; Ruby might well get on her nerves, but was infinitely preferable to her silent mam.

  was almost dark by the time they reached jrloo, and freezing - the road led straight down to liver Mersey. Little icy spots of rain were blowing le biting wind which gusted under their skirts and leir sleeves, penetrating the thickest clothes, ispite the cold, they were happy. Every now and , they would burst into song, 'White Christmas', ; saw Mommy kissing Santa Claus', though it d in a giggle after a few bars when their jaws

  mie had recovered her good humour. It was :ult not to when there were decorations every-e, and coloured lights, and the shops were packed happy people. There was a lovely atmosphere, and elt heady with excitement.

  irols could be heard along the road, and they came churchyard, where five black-cloaked nuns were ling around a large crib with almost life-sized es, singing 'Away in a Manger' at the top of their ous soprano voices. A large crowd had stopped to with them.

  mie paused, entranced. The scene was like a stmas card. The churchyard was surrounded by -tipped holly trees strung with sparkling lanterns, the vivid colours were reflected over and over le gleaming, thorny leaves. The white starched dresses of the women were like giant butterflies, sring slightly as if about to soar away. Above it all, Irops of rain could be seen against the navy-blue blowing this way and that like tiny, dancing stars, .nnie watched, a real star appeared, which seemed : winking and blinking especially at her. The other were already some distance ahead. 'Let's sing some Is,' she called.

  ley stopped. 'It's bloody freezing,' Ruby com-led.

  'Just one,' pleaded Annie. 'After all, it's Christmas.'

  'Oh, all right, just one.'

  The nuns began 'Silent Night', and everyone joined in. Annie was singing away when Sally Baker nudged her. 'See who's over there!'

  Sylvia Delgado was standing at the back of the crowd, staring wide-eyed, as if as entranced as Annie by it all. She wore a thick suede coat with a fur collar which looked incredibly smart.

  Annie only half heard the message being passed along the line of girls. 'See who's over there!' She felt annoyed when her arm was grabbed and someone hissed, 'Come on, quick! Let's get out of here.'

  'Why?' she asked. 'The carol hasn't finished.'

  A man's voice shouted angrily. 'Look what someone's done to this poor girl!'

  Ruby and the gang were nowhere to be seen. Puzzled, Annie left the church and saw them running down the road, laughing. They disappeared into Woolworth's and were still laughing when she caught up with them.

  'What happened?' she demanded.

  'Ruby pushed Sylvia Delgado right into the middle of a holly tree. You should have seen her face! One minute she was there, then, "whoosh", she'd completely disappeared!'

  Annie said nothing. She thought of Sylvia innocently watching the lovely Christmas scene, little realising she was about to be attacked.

  The girls were at the jewellery counter discussing what presents to buy each other. 'What would you like, Annie?' Sally Barker called.

  'I wouldn't be seen dead with anything off youse lot,' Annie said coldly.

  They stared at her in surprise. One or two had the grace to look ashamed, as if they knew the reason for

  the normally easy-going Annie Harrison's strange behaviour.

  'Merry Christmas,' she said sarcastically. Turning on her heel, she marched out of Woolworth's to cries of, 'But Annie . . .'

  The nuns were still in the churchyard, but there was no sign of Sylvia Delgado. Minutes later, Annie stood by the Odeon opposite the hotel where Sylvia lived. The traffic was heavy, and every now and then her view was blocked when a doubledecker bus or a lorry crawled by. The hotel was called the Grand, an appropriate name, she thought, because it was very grand indeed. Three storeys high, it was painted white and had little black wrought-iron balconies outside the windows of the first and second floors, and a red-and-black striped awning across the entire front at ground level. The doors were closed, and she wondered if it was more a posh sort of pub, rather than a hotel where people stayed.

  She wasn't sure how long she stood there, hopping from one foot to the other, and swinging her arms to try and keep warm. Time was getting on, and if she didn't take her courage in both hands soon, she would be late with Dad's tea. She didn't want him coming home on such a bitter night to find there was no hot meal waiting.

  Eventually, she took a deep breath and dodged through the traffic across the road. She peeped through the downstairs window of the hotel. Apart from a string of coloured lights across the bar, the big room was in darkness. She went around the side and found a small door, where she rang the bell and waited, her stomach knotted with nervousness.

  After a while, the door was opened by a slim woman whom Annie recognised immediately as Sylvia's mother. Not quite so beautiful, eyes a slightly lighter blue, and several inches shorter than her daughter, but

  lovely all the same. Her blonde hair was cut urchin style, in feathery wisps around her face. She wore black slacks and a pink satin shirt blouse, and smiled kindly at the visitor.

  'Is Sylvia in?' Annie gulped.

  'I heard her come home a minute ago. Are you a friend from school?' The woman looked delighted. 'Come in, dear. Quickly, out of the cold.'

  'Thank you.' Annie stepped into the neat lobby and the change from numbing cold to instant heat was almost suffocating. She noticed a metal radiator fixed to the wall, which explained why Sylvia's mother could walk round in a satin blouse in the
middle of the winter!

  'And who are you? You must call me Cecy, which is short for CeciHa. It's pronounced, "Si Si" - "yes" in Italian. I can't stand being called Mrs Delgado by my daughter's friends. It makes me feel very old.'

  'I'm Annie. Annie Harrison.'

  'Come along, Annie. I'll show you up to Sylvia's room.'

  Annie felt uncomfortable when Mrs Delgado - Cecy - linked her arm companionably and they went upstairs together. Would the welcome be quite so warm if Sylvia's mother knew she hadn't exchanged a single word with her daughter since she'd started school?

  When they reached the first-floor landing, Cecy shouted, 'Sylvia, darling, one of your friends is here.' She pointed up the second flight of stairs. 'First door on the right. I'll bring coffee in a minute.'

  'Thank you, Mrs ... I mean, Cecy.'

  The knot in Annie's stomach tightened. What sort of reception would she get? It would be quite understandable if Sylvia ordered her off the premises. As far as she was concerned, Annie was an acolyte of Ruby Livesey, someone who'd made her life a misery for weeks.

  She was about to knock on the door when it opened, and Sylvia regarded her haughtily. There was an ugly red scratch on her creamy cheek. The two girls stared at each other.

  'Hello,' Annie said awkwardly.

  'Hello. I was wondering if you'd come. I've been watching you across the road for ages.' Sylvia gestured towards the window.

  Annie took a deep breath. 'I came to say it wasn't me. I knew nothing about it till afterwards. Are you badly hurt.?'

  'Did they send you to find out?' Sylvia looked angry. 'I wouldn't have thought they cared.'

  'No!' Annie said quickly. 'I came of me own accord. They don't know I'm here - not that it'd worry me if they did.'

  'If you must know, there are tiny scratches all over my head. It's a good thing I went in backwards or I could have been blinded.' She shuddered. 'The scratch on my cheek happened when I was being pulled out. Cecy will have a fit. I've managed to avoid her so far.'

  'I'm awful sorry,' Annie mumbled.

  'Are you truly?' Sylvia looked at her keenly.

  Annie nodded her head. 'I'm sorry about everything.'

  Sylvia's lovely face broke into a smile. 'In that case, why don't you come in and sit down, Annie - it is Annie, isn't it?'

  'That's right.' Annie entered the room and sat in an armchair. The suede coat Sylvia had been wearing lay over the arm.

  'I think my coat's ruined,' Sylvia said sadly. 'Bruno bought it for me because he said England would be cold.'

  Annie saw the coat was scored with little jagged marks. 'Bruno?'

  'My father. It cost two hundred thousand lire.'

  'Jaysus!'

  Sylvia laughed. It was an attractive laugh, like everything else about her, deep and faintly musical. 'That's not as expensive as it sounds, about a hundred pounds in English money.'

  'Jaysus!' Annie said again. Her coat had cost £8.9S.iid. 'If you use a wire brush, the marks won't show so much.'

  'Perhaps,' Sylvia shrugged. 'It's my own fault. I was only showing off. I wore my most elegant dress and Cecy's boots as a way of thumbing my nose at those awful girls. Why should I look drab to please them?'

  It was Annie's turn to laugh. She forgot that until very recently she'd been one of the awful girls herself, albeit unwillingly. 'You couldn't look drab if you tried!'

  Sylvia tossed her head conceitedly and looked pleased. Her eyes met Annie's for a long moment, and in that moment, Annie knew the ice had been broken. There was no need for more explanations and apologies. Sylvia had forgiven her and from now on they would be friends.

  'Is this room all yours.''' Annie had only just noticed the bed tucked underneath the white sloping ceiling. The room was large, almost twenty feet square, thickly carpeted from wall to wall in cream. Somewhat incredibly, because Annie was unaware such a thing was possible, the fresh daisy-sprigged wallpaper was exactly the same pattern as the frilly curtains and the cover on the bed. There were a wardrobe and dressing table in pale creamy wood, a desk and two armchairs.

  'It's what's called a bedsitting room,' explained Sylvia.

  'It's dead gorgeous!' Annie breathed. 'It's like a film

  star's.' Sylvia even had her own gramophone with a stack of records underneath. Amidst the paraphernaHa on the dressing table, the silver-backed mirror and hairbrush, several bottles of perfume and pretty glass ornaments, stood a pearl crucifix with a gold figure of Jesus. Sylvia was Catholic. It meant they had something in common.

  'What's that?' She pointed to a small wooden shield on the wall.

  'Our family coat of arms,' Sylvia explained. 'Please don't tell anyone at school, but my father is a Count. He has another, much larger shield in the bar, and thinks it a great joke to tell everyone he's a Count, then tell them he's a communist. Bruno is very gregarious; he loves arguing, particularly about politics. That's why he bought the Grand, so he would have an audience for his views. He's not interested in money. We already have pans.'

  'Pots,' said Annie. 'You have pots of money, not pans.'

  There was silence for a while, then Sylvia said shyly, 'What are you doing on Saturday, Annie?'

  'Nothing.' Annie had decided to have no more to do with Ruby Livesey. The decision would cause unpleasantness when she returned to school, but she didn't care. She and Sylvia would face it together.

  'I haven't bought a single present yet. I wondered if you'd like to go shopping in Liverpool? We could have lunch and go to the cinema.'

  'I'd love to!' cried Annie. 'Having lunch' sounded dead posh. If she did the washing on Friday, she'd have Saturday to do as she pleased.

  Cecy came in with coffee and a plate of chocolate biscuits. She yelped in horror when she saw her daughter's scratched face, and immediately fetched disinfectant and cotton wool.

  'I caught it on a tree,' Sylvia explained.

  'You silly girl!' Cecy said fondly as she dabbed the wound.

  Annie would have loved a room like Sylvia's, and a two-hundred-thousand lire coat, but what she would have loved most of all was a mam who cared if she came in hurt. 'Mam wouldn't notice if I came home carrying me head underneath me arm,' she thought drily.

  At ten o'clock on Saturday morning, Annie waited on Seaforth station for the Liverpool train. Sylvia was catching the five past ten from Waterloo and they would meet in the front compartment. It was colder than ever. A pale lemony sun shone, crisp and bright, in a cloudless blue sky.

  Annie thought of the rack in the kitchen which was crammed with clothes she'd washed the night before, the larder full of groceries, and the beef casserole slowly cooking in the oven. There was nothing for Dad to do when he came home from work. He could read the paper or watch sport on the recently acquired television which had been bought at Annie's insistence. Even Marie stayed in one night to watch a play.

  She stared at the signal, willing it to fall and indicate the train was coming, and did a little dance because she had never felt so happy. Next week, it would be Christmas and today she was going into town with her friend! On the platform opposite, a porter watched with amusement.

  'Someone's full of the joys of spring, even if it is December,' he shouted.

  The silver lines began to hum, the signal fell, and a few minutes later the train drew in, and there was Sylvia, exactly where she'd said she'd be! She wore a red

  lohair coat and a white fur hat and looked every bit as appy as Annie.

  .iverpool was glorious in its Christmas splendour, .arols poured out relentlessly from every shop and the avements were crammed with people laden with arcels struggling to make their way along.

  The first thing they did was buy a copy of the Echo. In he Kardomah over coffee, they excitedly scanned the ist of films. They had to finish shopping in time for the fternoon performance.

  'Which one do you fancy?' asked Sylvia.

  'You say first.'

  'I'd love to see Three Coins in a Fountain. It's set in lome and I miss Italy awfully.'
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  'Then that's what we'll see.'

  'Are you sure?'

  'Positive,' Annie said firmly. 'I saw Rossano Brazzi in Attle Women and I thought he was dead smashing.'

  'Next time, you can have first choice. Now, as soon IS we've finished our coffee, you must take me to jeorge Henry Lee's. According to Cecy, it's the finest hop in Liverpool.'

  On her few excursions into town, Annie had never 'entured inside George Henry Lee's, deterred by the nind-boggling prices in the window. Once there, Sylvia )egan to spend at a rate that took Annie's breath away; I black suede handbag for Cecy, a silk scarf for Bruno, a luffy white shawl for her grandmother.

  'My grandparents are flying over for Christmas,' she explained. 'Now, what shall I get for Grandpapa?'

  They went to the menswear department, where, after nuch deliberation, she chose a long-sleeved cashmere pullover. 'Aren't you going to buy any presents?' she isked Annie after a while.

  'Not here,' Annie said, embarrassed. She'd managed

  to save nearly five pounds by assiduously putting aside a shilling a week from her pocket-money for a whole year. 'I'll get mine in a less expensive shop.'

  Sylvia was profusely apologetic. 'I'm so tactless! Shall we go somewhere else? You lead the way.'

  They linked arms as they made their way towards the exit. At the jewellery counter, Sylvia paused. 'Are we going to exchange presents? Those bracelets are very elegant. I'd like to buy one for you.'

  The bracelets were diamante, huge dazzling stones in a chunky dark gold setting. They were very elegant indeed, but they were also f4.19s.6d!

  'No, ta,' Annie said quickly. 'They're lovely, but your present must cost the same as mine. I couldn't afford that much.'

  Sylvia nodded understandingly. 'What about these pretty little pendants? Nine and elevenpence. Is that too much? I haven't got the hang of English money yet.'

  'That's half an English pound.' Annie stared at the pendants on a display card on the counter. There were ten different designs, tiny enamelled flowers no bigger than a sixpence on a fine gold-plated chain.

  'This one would suit you perfectly, an orchid.' Sylvia pointed to the second pendant down, a red and blue and gold flower. 'You are like an orchid, Annie, you seem to change colour all the time. One minute your hair is red, then the light changes and it's gold. Your eyes are different, too; blue, then grey, then blue again.'