Read Online The Leaving of Liverpool by Lyn Andrews - Free Book Online Page A

was over, as was the worrying and waiting. The future looked rosy and she’d found Edwin far more entertaining and interesting than she’d done before the war. But she’d been barely out of school then, she reasoned.
    ‘I told you you’d enjoy it.’
    ‘A right little Miss Knowall, aren’t you?’ he teased.
    ‘Not always, but I thought you needed cheering up.’
    ‘Oh, did you? Have I been going around with my chin on the floor or something?’
    She laughed. ‘No, but you just seemed a bit down and you’re not the only one. What is the matter with Master James? Not a single word can I get out of him, although our Phoebe-Ann seems to find plenty to talk to him about and she swears he talks to her for hours, but then she always did exaggerate.’
    Edwin’s smile vanished. ‘He just needs time to get over it. I saw a lot of men like that. He’ll be all right.’
    ‘Well, whatever it is they talk about must have some effect on him. I’ve seen him. He follows her with his eyes. Watches her every movement, sort of intent yet . . . hopefully, if you know what I mean? Oh, I’m useless at putting into the right words what I mean!’
    ‘I can always understand you, Em.’
    She let her gaze drop. Was she imagining it or was there a different tone in his voice and why did she suddenly feel confused and silly? She raised her hand to her cheek then snatched it away. She was blushing! Thank God it was dark and the bonfire at the top of the street had been lit and was blazing cheerfully, throwing out an orange glow that would disguise her flushed cheeks. But she was wrong.
    ‘You’re blushing, Emily Parkinson!’
    ‘I’m not!’ she retorted.
    He reached and took her hand and squeezed it. ‘You should be. All nice girls do when men pay this much attention to them.’
    She tried to snatch her hand away but he held it tightly. ‘Do you like me, Emily?’
    ‘Of course I like you! I always have!’
    ‘You know what I mean. Stop acting as though you don’t. I like you. I’d go so far as to say I’m fond of you, Em.’
    Things were going too fast and she should have some polite reply ready but she could think of nothing and her heart was beginning to thump wildly against her ribs. ‘I . . . I . . . do like you, Edwin.’
    ‘Enough to come out with me on our next day off?’
    She nodded. Unable to trust herself to speak.
    He squeezed her hand again but, as Albert returned to resume his expertise on the piano, urged on by half a dozen very merry men and women, she just smiled at him and was content to watch the merriment, her hand still in his, until the moment was shattered by the clanging of bells and the shout of ‘Eh, up! It’s the fire bobby come to put the damper on things! Stoke up the fire, kids! Give ’em something to work at!’ and they both laughed.
     
    The flames of the numerous bonfires and the sounds of the celebrations could be seen and heard in Upper Huskisson Street. James Mercer sat in his darkened room facing the half-open window and, as the festivities progressed, his depression increased. His mind was tormented by the horrific images and sounds that invaded it until he felt that his head would explode. It was all happening again: the thundering of the guns, the flashes of exploding shells, the cries, the screams and it was his fault. They had been his orders, he’d sent them all over the top, he’d sent them to their agonizing deaths while he’d come through unscathed. He could hear himself shouting to them now but it was too late! Too late!
    A slow, gut-churning anger began to take hold of him. It hadn’t been all his fault. Someone else had given those orders. Nameless, faceless men who sat in safe, warm, comfortable places. Well, he’d take no more of their orders! He’d send no more men or boys to die in the mud! Obstacles seemed to bar his way. Obstacles he really couldn’t distinguish, but they were there, and they were stopping them all from leaving. The anger increased to fury