Read Online Liverpool Taffy by Katie Flynn - Free Book Online Page A

thing, I did all the talking!’
    ‘Oh! Well, no time now, queen. I’ll tell you all about it Sunday mornin’, tennish. Tara for now.’
    Biddy, abruptly remembering her errand, stood staring after her friend for a moment, then, with a shrug, retraced her steps to the greengrocer’s shop she had been about to enter when Ellen’s familiar figure had crossed her vision. Mrs Ruby Hitchcot was lovingly setting out her strawberries in a glistening mound under a notice which read ‘Fresh today! Straight from the Wirral!’. She turned and smiled at Biddy. ‘Mornin’, queen. What can I do for you this bright mornin’?’
    Biddy had met Ellen on the Thursday and by Sunday shewas in a rare state of excitement. She thought about telling Kenny, which would mean he might well walk up with her at least as far as Sparly, but decided against it. The fewer people who got wind of the fact that she had met up with an old friend, and guessed that the old friend might help her to escape from the Kettle ménage, the better.
    On the other hand though, Kenny always went to the same Mass as she did, because then they walked up and back together, shared a pew, sometimes shared a hymn-book, and talked softly whilst waiting for the service to start. It made the service more amusing, Biddy acknowledged that, but now it also raised a considerable problem. If she told Kenny, then he might want to accompany her, which could be awkward, or he might want to stop her seeing Ellen, which would be worse. She absolved him of being a tale bearer and wanting to tell his mother, but if she did manage to get away he would come searching for her at Ellen’s … and might even put his Ma onto her if Mrs Kettle demanded her address from him.
    Sunday dawned warm and sunny. Kenny suggested that she might get another day off and go along to Seaforth with him. ‘We could bathe,’ he said hopefully. ‘We could paddle, anyroad. Why not, our Biddy? It’s time you ’ad some fun.’
    ‘Look, I’m going to Mass,’ Biddy said patiently. ‘We’ll talk about it after dinner, eh?’
    He scowled. ‘I’m not goin’ to Mass, not on a day like this. I’m not goin’ to miss this sunshine even if you wanna ’ang around the ’ouse all day. I’ll meet you out and I’ll have a word wi’ me Mam.’
    ‘All right, if that’s what you want,’ Biddy said. ‘See you later, then, Kenny.’
    After the day out with Kenny, Ma Kettle had been prevailed upon to buy Biddy a best coat and skirt and a pair of decent shoes. The shoes had cardboard soles and were made of thin, cheap leather and the coat and skirt came from one of the stalls on Paddy’s Market, but they seemed very fine indeed to Biddy. So on Sunday morning she donned the blue coat and skirt, the striped blouse and the navy shoes, perched a straw hat on her curls, and set off for Mass.
    The Kettles attended St Anthony’s at the top of the Scotland Road so Biddy turned in that direction,walked a hundred yards or so and then crossed over the road and retraced her steps, feeling excitingly wicked as she did so. It was risky but after all, what could old Ma Kettle do to her? Slinging her out on her ear seemed less likely now, for it had gradually been borne in upon Biddy that she was a very useful person indeed in the Kettle household. Where else would Ma Kettle get someone who could help Kenny with his studying, cook meals, clean, launder, make sweets … and best of all, do it without a wage and without ever dipping her fingers into the till?
    So she could perfectly well have asked for at least half a day off, but in fact that would have complicated things still further. Mrs Kettle would have grudgingly acceded to her request and Kenny, ears pricking, would have stuck to her side closer than glue. All would have been spoiled, so though this way she was deceiving Ma Kettle, Biddy did not let this affect her enjoyment of the day.
    If Ellen asks me I’ll stay to dinner, she planned, hurrying along the pavement