saw her father smile and reach into his pocket. ‘You get that kettle on, Maudie,’ he insisted, giving her a wink. ‘I’ve brought you a bit o’ summat you can put in your teapot.’
‘I hope this isn’t off that black market, Gerry. You know I don’t approve of that kind of thing, not like some I could name,’ Maude answered disagreeably. But Rosie saw that she still took the packet of tea and the small bag of sugar her father was handing her.
‘It’s not black market. I bought the sugar in New York and traded the tea with another sailor.
‘So how’ve you bin keeping, Maude?’ he asked when she had filled the kettle and lit the gas.
‘Well enough, I suppose, seeing as there’s a war on, and I’m living on me own with no one to care what happens to me. A poor frail widow, that’s what I am now, without my Henry. It takes all me strength some days just to get meself out of bed and dressed.’
Her aunt certainly didn’t look or sound the slightest bit like a frail widow, Rosie reflected. She was a well-built woman, with a slightly florid complexion and a steely expression that made her look rather formidable. When war had first been announced Rosie had heard her mother saying to her father, ‘Well, we won’t need no tanks to defend Liverpool, not when we’ve got your Maude, what with her being built like one.’ Rosie could see just what she meant.
‘It was nice to see the young ’uns out in the street having a bit of fun when we walked up,’ Rosie’s father commented. ‘This war is hard on them.’
‘I’ll thank you to remember that this is an avenue, not a street, if you please, Gerry, and if you ask me these modern youngsters have far too much fun. They make far too much noise as well. Of course, I blame the mothers. It’s not like it was in our day. I was saying as much to one of me neighbours the other day. Widowed like me, she is. Only she’s got a son. Mind you, he’s not going to be much comfort to her now he’s gone and got himself married. She was telling me about all the trouble she’s bin having with her daughter-in-law and now there’s a baby coming. No sense of responsibility, some people haven’t. You’d think the girl would know that a widow needs her son to look after her, especially now.
‘Put me in mind of how Christine persuaded you into getting married before you’d known her five minutes. Which reminds me, there’s a house just come up for rent at the other end of the street. You should go and have a word with the landlord, Gerry. It’s a pity you didn’t move up here years ago like I wanted you to, especially now that there’s bin all that trouble with them Italians. Of course, it was bound to happen. Foreigners. Fascists. I’ve never understood how you could go on living down there instead of wanting to better yourself a bit.’
‘Christine likes it …’
Rosie saw the way her aunt’s whole face tightened, and her own stomach did the same as she anticipated what was going to come next.
‘Well, you know my opinion, Gerry. You’ve let Christine have far too much of her own way. It’s the man who earns the wages, and pays the bills, and if Christine hasn’t got the sense in her head to know that you’d all be better off living up here, then you should put your foot down and make her see sense.’
‘It doesn’t seem fair for me to be telling Christine where she should live when I’m away at sea so much. Besides, Gerard Street’s handy for the docks.’
‘Yes, and it will be handy for Hitler’s bombers when they come over as well, but I don’t suppose she’s thought of that. I don’t suppose she thinks of anything other than doing her hair and painting her nails and going out spending your money. When was the last time she had a hot dinner waiting on the table for you when you got back from sea? I’ll never know why you married her in the first place.’
Her father was looking red-faced and uncomfortable, and no wonder, Rosie thought angrily. Aunt Maude had no right to speak about her mother like that, but neither could she really blame her father for not trying to defend her. Somehow she didn’t think that Aunt Maude would have been convinced. No wonder her mother had likened her to a tank. And no wonder too that she didn’t want to come and live up here close to her sister-in-law. Rosie didn’t blame her one little bit. Did her aunt ever have a good word to say about anything or anyone? Rosie wondered. She hoped they wouldn’t have to stay for very much longer. Already she was longing for the visit to end.
‘You didn’t have much to say for yourself at your auntie’s, Rosie,’ her father commented when they were on their way home.
‘I’m sorry, Dad, but I was afraid that if I opened my mouth, I’d say the wrong thing. I know she’s my auntie and your sister, but it isn’t right the way she’s always finding fault with others, and especially with Mum.’
Her father sighed. ‘No, they’ve never got on, and your mother doesn’t help matters, acting the way she does when she does see her.’
Rosie gave him a swift look. ‘Mum’s always said that Aunt Maude didn’t want you to marry her and that she didn’t think she was good enough for you.’
‘Aye, well, to be honest they never hit it off right from the start. I suppose with your Aunt Maude looking after me from being a nipper she was more like a mother to me than a sister, and I dare say she wouldn’t have thought any girl was good enough for me. Of course, your mum doesn’t see it that way. She reckons she’s the one that could have done better for herself.’
‘Well, I certainly don’t think she could. No one could be better than you, Dad,’ Rosie told him, rubbing her face against his shoulder. ‘You’re the best dad in the world.’
She could see the fine lines, put there by years of wind and salt spray, crinkling out from the corners of his eyes as he smiled. ‘Go on with you, trying to soft-soap me.’
‘I’m not. It’s the truth. There’s no one I would rather have as my dad than you.’
He looked down at her. ‘Aye, well, there’s no lass I’d rather have as my daughter than you, Rosie.’
‘It’s just as well that I am then, isn’t it?’ she teased him, before raising herself up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. ‘Come on,’ she urged him. ‘I’m getting hungry.’
‘Well, your auntie was right about one thing: your mother won’t have a dinner waiting for us.’
Rosie laughed. ‘We can call at the chippie on the way back and get some pie and chips.’
‘It’s Sunday,’ her father reminded her.
‘Podestra’s will be open. They always open on a Sunday,’ Rosie told him, giving him her sunny smile and linking her arm through his.
‘Rosie,’ he suddenly stopped dead right in the middle of the road, reached out and took hold of her hand, ‘if anything was to happen to me, I want you to promise me you’ll mek sure you keep in touch with Auntie Maude. For my sake.’
Rosie stared up at him, the horror at what he was saying showing in her face. ‘Don’t talk like that, Dad,’ she begged him fiercely. ‘Nothing’s going to happen to you. I won’t let it …’
‘Oh, well, if you won’t let it then of course it won’t,’ he laughed, teasing her. ‘I’ll tell that Father Doyle that you’ve got the ear of God, shall I?’
‘Don’t
