The Mersey Daughter (Empire Street #3)(74)



For once the shift passed swiftly and without major incident, and Rita was reminded once again just how much she enjoyed her job. Even better, today she was on the same shift as her favourite colleague, Maeve Kerrigan. Maeve had a temper as fiery as her hair, but she’d learned to tame both, and was now a highly competent nurse. Rita could relax when she was around, knowing there would be no mistakes and everything that needed to be done would be done, and far more besides. Maeve took no nonsense from anybody, patients or staff, irrespective of their rank. Occasionally this annoyed those who didn’t know her well, particularly those of middle rank who felt they deserved respect purely because of their position. Maeve didn’t care. The lowliest private got the same diligent attention from her as a major general.

‘I reckon we’ve earned a few minutes to put our feet up,’ Maeve said, stacking the last of her reports in a neat pile ready to hand over to the next shift. ‘Wait till you see what I’ve brought with me.’

Rita watched as Maeve reached into her locker and took out a tin. It was brightly coloured, if a little scratched. She opened it with a flourish. ‘Ta da! Seed cake!’

‘Ooh, where did you get that?’ Rita breathed. She hadn’t had any cake since she’d been to the farm. It was just too hard to get hold of sugar, eggs and butter. Things had been different when Kitty lived over the road, as she always seemed able to get a few ingredients and was famed for making something out of nothing. This was a rare treat.

‘My neighbour got it at a WVS sale, and then she got toothache and felt she shouldn’t risk it,’ Maeve said with delight. She found a knife and set about cutting them generous slices. ‘She likes me because I cleaned up some minor cuts she got from broken glass in a raid. One good turn deserves another, I’d say.’

Rita nodded in agreement, but she couldn’t answer as her mouth was too full. It was a taste of heaven, and all the more welcome after the busy shift.

‘Have you heard anything from our Sid recently?’ Maeve went on. Sid, Nancy’s husband, was Maeve’s cousin. It had been a surprise to find that she was working alongside his sister-in-law, Rita. It meant that she sometimes had news of him to pass back to her family over in Ireland, who found Maeve a more reliable source of information than Sid’s morose mother.

Rita brushed a crumb from her top lip. ‘Not really. Nancy got a letter via the Red Cross about a week ago, but there’s nothing new to say. He’s alive, he’s not being treated too badly, he wishes he could see Georgie. That’s about it.’

‘And how’s Nancy?’ Maeve wanted to know.

‘Oh, you know Nancy,’ Rita said with a laugh. ‘She’s carrying on much as normal. She’s still living with your auntie, but you wouldn’t know it from the amount of time she spends at Mam’s, and she’s always leaving Georgie there. Not that Mam or Violet object to that, of course. Still, Nancy’s living it up now. She’s only gone and got herself a volunteering position at the WVS station in the city centre. She’s quite an expert in showing visiting servicemen the ropes. She was telling me she’s offered to give them guided tours, particularly the US engineers who are over here because of the Lend Lease Agreement. She says it helps them to feel at home.’

‘Nice work if you can get it,’ said Maeve.

‘They seem to appreciate it, that’s for sure. If the amount of nylons she gets given are any measure of it, anyway,’ Rita added. ‘I can’t remember when I last had a new pair.’

‘Me neither,’ said Maeve, looking down at her sensible lisle stockings. ‘Not that I have any occasion to wear them. They’d be wasted around here, for a start.’

‘You’re right there.’ Rita sighed. ‘Sometimes I almost forget what it was like to get all dolled up and go out dancing. Not that I ever did much of that on account of having Michael so young.’

‘Your day might yet come,’ Maeve told her encouragingly. ‘Just think, when this war is over, your children might be almost old enough to look after themselves. They’ll probably be quite independent after being evacuated. Then you’ll have time to go out and enjoy yourself – think of that.’

Rita laughed and shook her head. ‘I don’t think so. Well, yes, they’re learning heaps on the farm that they’d never have been able to at home, and Megan’s finally speaking up for herself. She’s beginning to write short letters, and she sends pictures – you should have seen the one she did of a dead chicken. Apparently a fox got it. She really went to town with all the blood everywhere.’ Rita felt anxious suddenly, remembering Megan’s words about the shadow man. Surely that couldn’t have anything to do with the dead bird? She tried to shake off her unease. ‘They’re spoilt rotten, though. Anyway, who would I go dancing with? If Charlie ever dares to show his face again, we won’t be going down the Grafton, that’s for certain.’

‘No news from Jack, then?’

Rita sometimes wondered if it had been wise to have admitted to Maeve that she was still in contact with Jack, fearing that word could somehow get back to Empire Street and reach Winnie’s ears. But things were complicated enough as they were, without adding another layer of subterfuge. So she’d poured her heart out one time when they were on night shift, confessing how she felt and the impossibility of it all – but she’d left out the fact that Jack was actually Michael’s real father. That was a secret she would keep until Michael himself was ready to be told – if that ever happened. It certainly wouldn’t be while she was still married to Charlie, and she could see no way out of that which didn’t involve betraying every value she held dear.

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