the bar and wondered if Sid would get here before closing time.
Enjoying his rare night out with Frank and Eddy, Pop joined in the singing while Frank played the old upright piano. By nine o’clock, the whole pub seemed to be full of voices all happy to throw their opinions into the ring. They were all listening with interest to war stories from veterans of the last lot. By nine thirty, his sons were talking as if they would guide the British fleet to victory all by themselves, if need be. However, Pop laughed when he thought of thick heads in the morning, because tonight the only thing they were sinking was their beer.
‘Here, where’s the bridegroom got to?’ Eddy asked when he saw Pop looking at the time again.
‘This is a fine carry-on,’ said Frank, ‘a stag do and no stag.’ The die-hard regulars standing at the bar joined in Frank’s cheery banter.
‘Well,’ said one, ‘who wants to spend their last night of freedom with their future outlaws?’
‘Don’t you let my Dolly hear you talking like that, Fred,’ Pop replied. ‘We only got out of the house on the promise of looking after Sid …’ Pop, with theatrical exaggeration, looked right and left before he spoke again. ‘If she finds out he’s not turned up, she’ll be in here, evacuate the lot of us and have us making fairy cakes.’ The bar erupted with good-natured laughter and before long Frank started a medley of sea shanties.
Much to Eddy’s delight, Gloria came into the pub and silently beckoned him to the end of the bar. She was looking particularly fetching in a pale cream dress with puffed sleeves and a sweetheart neckline, and with her hair swept up in those fabulous Betty Grable curls, she looked very sophisticated.
‘Hello, gorgeous,’ Eddy said, giving Gloria a huge sloppy kiss on the cheek. They hugged and passed the usual pleasantries. How long are you home? Are you courting yet? Do you fancy going to the pictures sometime? Gloria saw the Feeny boys as welcome extensions of her own family, the brothers she did not have, especially Eddy, who always took the mick and made her laugh. But the boy next door wasn’t for Gloria, she had other ideas about the sort of man who would be worthy of her.
‘Eddy, listen to me,’ Gloria said as he started to hum along to the piano. ‘Eddy? Eddy, are you listening?’ She turned his face towards her and could see by the silly grin and half-closed eyes that he was already half-cut. Eddy nodded like an adoring two-year-old.
‘It’s about Sid.’ Gloria voice was urgently solemn now and she saw his expression change. His brow pleated and his head went up.
‘What about him?’ Eddy asked, alert now.
Gloria leaned over and whispered in his ear. Concentrating hard, Eddy felt his head begin to clear.
‘Frank,’ he said in a low voice, summoning his brother with a slight nod of his head. Frank dutifully left the piano and joined Eddy at the end of the bar.
‘What’s the matter?’ Frank asked. Able to take his ale better than his younger brother, he was listening intently.
Eddy wagged a finger in front of his nose and said in a low voice, ‘I don’t want Pop to hear this, but we’ve to go on a mission.’
‘A mission? Where to?’ Frank asked. ‘And why don’t you want Pop to hear?’
‘First things first,’ Eddy answered, putting his full pint of best bitter on the bar. ‘We are going to the Adelphi Hotel.’
‘What? Now?’ Frank asked, puzzled, and Eddy nodded. ‘It’s a bit late to be going into town; Ma will have our guts for violin strings if we get up to mischief and spoil the wedding.’
‘She’ll do more than that if she ever finds out what I’ve just heard.’
‘Oh, aye,’ said Frank, suddenly interested, ‘and what was that?’
‘I’ll tell you outside,’ Eddy offered, before letting Pop know he would see him back at the house later.
‘Sailors, hey?’ Pop’s laughter was drowned out by the cheers of the other men at the bar, all of whom had been away to sea at one time or another. ‘You can’t keep good men down.’
‘Thanks, Glor.’ Eddy gave her a peck on the cheek, quickly followed by Frank, who did not want to miss a female hug. A cheer went up as the two brothers left the pub.
‘So, what’s the mystery?’ Frank asked, hands in pockets, as they ambled across to the dock road. A striking pair of handsome sailors, the same height, weight and jovial manner.
‘I think Sid might be in a bit of bother,’ Eddy said in a low voice as they crossed over towards Seaforth and the terminus of the overhead railway. ‘He certainly will be if we don’t go and fetch him.’
‘What kind of bother?’ Frank felt his heartbeat quicken. He never went looking for trouble but if it came to visit, he was always ready.
‘Gloria saw him in the Adelphi Hotel last night and again tonight. And he was not on his own.’ Eddy filled Frank in on the details Gloria had told him about Sid enjoying the company of a woman whose brother, infamously, was not averse to the use of violence.
‘I’m more Queensberry rules than the rough stuff,’ said Frank, who knew how to handle himself if need be. Coming from a neighbourhood where being tough was a state of mind, as well as body, you had to learn very quickly.
‘And what about Gloria?’ he asked. ‘How come she was in the Adelphi?’
‘She’s a singer, is Glor,’ said Eddy. ‘Didn’t you know? Nancy told me that she’s got a regular spot at the Adelphi. She’s going places, that girl.’
‘Have you gone a bit soft on her?’ asked Frank, nudging his brother playfully in the ribs.
‘Who wouldn’t be? That figure, those hips! She drives men wild.’
Frank was amused by his brother’s glowing assessment of Gloria. The drink had clearly loosened his tongue.
‘But I’m not daft, Frank. She’d no more look at me than she would a scrape of mud on one of her shoes. I’m not in her league.’
Frank clapped his brother on the shoulder. ‘Who dares wins, Edward, who dares wins …’
The dance floor at the Adelphi was heaving with couples entwined in the last waltz of the evening. Soldiers, sailors and airmen were taking a chance to enjoy the tranquil ambience, the good music and fine wine before they were to be shipped off at a moment’s notice to God knew where.
It took only a moment before the Feeny brothers caught sight of Sid Kerrigan swishing around the polished floor like Fred Astaire, obviously enjoying himself. Perhaps a little too much. They both recognised his dance partner immediately and they were shocked to see Queenie Calendar, sister of the infamous gang leader Harry Calendar, hanging around Sid’s neck like a barnacle. Sid appeared to be whispering sweet nothings into her ear and she was lapping up every minute. They certainly looked like more than dance partners. Before Sid was aware of it, a handsome sailor had whisked his ravishing partner away and was twirling her around the dance floor himself.
‘Oy, this ain’t a gentlemen’s-excuse-me,’ Sid protested. Then he noticed who it was leading him off the dance floor and he gave a sickly grin. ‘Oh, hello,
