Child of the Mersey. Annie Groves

      Just then, Queenie, who had extricated herself from Frank, came up to Sid, and with her hands on her hips said, ‘What happened to my dance?’ Queenie was all woman, with large breasts and hips that strained against her tight-fitting dress, and a mop of dark brown curls that she had pinned up in the latest style.

      ‘I’m just having a chat with some old friends, Queenie,’ said Sid, ushering her away, his face flushing as he tugged nervously at his necktie, which suddenly felt too tight.

      He turned back to the Feeny brothers. ‘Yes, a nice fish supper, that’s just what I was saying to that nice lady over there,’ Sid recovered himself quickly, ‘before she dragged me up to dance. I don’t have a clue who she is. Never seen her before in my life.’

      ‘Is that right, Sid?’ Eddy, level-headed now, was in no mood for excuses. He had left a full pint on the bar at the Sailor’s and was not pleased about it one bit. However, his sister’s good name was at stake and it was his job to make sure that Sid did nothing to embarrass her in any way.

      ‘And your white lies are turning darker by the minute, me old mucker,’ Frank advised Sid. He went on to inform his future brother-in-law about the danger of plank walking over the River Mersey. ‘… A man might miss his wedding day and that would never do. We have to think of the poor bride in all of this.’