The Mersey Daughter (Empire Street #3)(32)



He found many of the roads were closed and he had to divert when and where possible. He had no plan in mind, but felt compelled to see as much of it for himself as he could before he attempted to get back to his billet – if it was still standing. He thought of the landlady, strict and severe. He hadn’t bothered making the effort to become friends; in fact their paths rarely crossed as his shifts were so irregular. But he didn’t wish her ill. While it could never be called home, his Spartan small room served a useful purpose and he could do with falling into the narrow bed right now. But he had to see for himself what the night’s raids had done.

Picking his way through rubble and shattered glass, he found himself in front of one of the city centre’s biggest and most popular shops: Lewis’s. Or rather, what was left of it. He gasped at the scale of the damage. Not that he or his family had made a habit of shopping there; usually they made do with the goods in the local markets. But Kitty always talked about it as somewhere she’d buy her clothes if she could, and he’d often vowed to himself he would give her something nice from there – just as a token of friendship; of course there could be nothing else to it now that he was so badly injured. He grimaced. Getting around on his artificial leg on all the uneven pavements was more of a problem than he’d ever admit to anyone.

‘Frank! Frank Feeny!’

A bright female voice jolted him out of the uncharacteristic moment of self-pity. Glancing down the street he caught sight of a figure with striking platinum-blonde hair, wrapped in what looked to be a very expensive long coat. There was only one person it could be.

‘Gloria! I didn’t know you were back in town,’ he called as she approached him. Impulsively he stepped forwards and gave her a hug. He’d known her since she was a toddler, and now her presence here brought him back down to earth.

Gloria gave a wry smile. ‘Picked the right time to pay a visit, didn’t I? Nice of Hitler to send a welcoming committee.’ She shook her head. ‘Look at this place. And to think I was planning to go shopping there later. Don’t suppose they’ll be open today.’

‘Not for a while, if ever, I’d say.’ Frank gazed at the once impressive frontage of the tall building, now all but destroyed. ‘You’ll have to get your glad rags elsewhere, Gloria.’

‘Maybe I won’t bother.’ Gloria flashed him her brilliant smile. ‘Suddenly I’m not in the mood for shopping.’

Frank raised an eyebrow. The Gloria he remembered of old was clothes-mad, which was just one of the reasons she got on so well with his sister Nancy. But war changed everyone. ‘Up here for work, are you?’

Gloria nodded. ‘Can you believe I was singing last night at the Adelphi when this all began? We tried to carry on but it was no good. Usually I’m quite happy to keep on singing for as long as there’s an audience to listen, but this lot got a bit close for comfort. Have you seen much of it?’

Frank shrugged. ‘I came straight from my night shift down in Derby House. I’ve been wandering round ever since. Fancy joining me for a while? I don’t know why, but I feel that as I’m here, in the middle of it all, I need to see with my own eyes what’s happened.’

Gloria nodded. ‘I know what you mean. Yes, I’d be happy to – that’s if you’re all right?’ She automatically glanced down towards his leg.

Frank bristled. He couldn’t bear to be thought of as anything other than the fully fit young man he had been until so recently. ‘Of course.’

‘I just meant, you must be tired if you’ve just come off duty,’ Gloria said hurriedly.

Frank nodded in acknowledgement. ‘Not so tired that I can’t walk. I can sleep later. Now I need to see what’s happened around here.’

As if in mutual understanding, they turned and began to head down towards the Mersey. For a while the devastation was so shocking they fell silent, just staring around them, taking it all in. The streets where they and their friends and families had strolled so often were utterly changed, many transformed into wasteland overnight. Every now and then Gloria gasped and pointed at one more familiar landmark now ruined. She swayed on her high heels.

‘Not the best choice of footwear,’ she said sadly. ‘I didn’t think of that when I packed – shoes for performing, yes. Shoes for picking my way through rubble, no. Forgot that.’

‘Bad planning,’ said Frank grimly, and gave a heartfelt sigh. ‘You’ve been in London, haven’t you? So what was it like down there?’

‘Oh, destruction follows me wherever I go,’ Gloria said lightly, not wanting to go into details of the overcrowded shelters and Tube platforms used whenever there was a raid on the capital. ‘I just keep on singing until they tell me to stop. Isn’t Kitty down there now? Nancy was saying she’d joined the Wrens and left them all behind.’

‘I believe so,’ said Frank shortly. ‘We don’t write.’

‘Oh.’ Gloria realised she’d touched on a sensitive topic, and hastily attempted to put things right. ‘Well, I’m sure she’s doing well. She’ll be safe, I should think; they wouldn’t put trainee Wrens in danger.’

‘I should hope not,’ said Frank, trying hard to keep his voice level and show no fear for Kitty’s safety. They were all exposed to risks, wherever they were – and, after all, she was nothing special to him, he told himself firmly. ‘Let’s turn down here, see if we can get through to the river. It looks as if there’s plenty of damage down here too.’

Annie Groves's Books