‘Dai, I’m sorry I’m late.’
He turned and put his arms round her as naturally as though they had done it a thousand times before, instead of just the once. ‘Biddy! You aren’t late, it’s me who’s early. Where shall we go? I’d like to find a shelter of some sort so that we could sit down for a moment, but the place I’ve got in mind’s a long walk, and I don’t even know whether we’ll be able to get in. Only Mrs Gallagher was talking about it at dinner, and …’
‘Where?’ Biddy asked. ‘They’re going to the lake in Prince’s Park, so we’d better not go there.’
‘No, I thought we’d walk across to Sefton Park. It’s a long way but there’s an aviary there, and a palm house. Mrs Gallagher said the palm house was often open … we could try both. There will surely be a seat in an alcove or something like that, wouldn’t you think?’
‘Oh, sure, to be,’ Biddy murmured, falling into step beside him and feeling his arm slide round her waist with a delicious shiver. She did not care whether they found somewhere to sit down or not, so long as they were together. ‘Which way will we go, though, to keep away from the lake?’
‘We won’t go into Prince’s Park at all, we’ll walk round it, along Croxteth Road and Lodge Lane. I bought a
Geographia of Liverpool
when I was searchin’ for you, see, an’ it’s really good, gives lovely little maps of the whole city. Mind, I’m not the world’s best map reader, but I’ve a fair bump of direction. Are you game to try and find this place?’
‘Of course,’ Biddy said. ‘Even if I don’t quite see … but I shall enjoy the walk.’
Her confidence was not exactly bolstered when Dai, having stared around him for a couple of minutes, announced, ‘This way!’ and led her boldly towards Prince’s Gate West, then realised his mistake, muttered, ‘Oh sugar!’ beneath his breath and turned her round to face in the opposite direction.
‘I do admire a man with a bump of direction,’ Biddy said sweetly, smiling up at him. ‘I’m sure you’ll get us there, Dai, but going via the Mersey tunnel may take a while!’
‘No sarcasm,’ Dai growled, squeezing her waist. ‘I’m on the right road now, feel it in my bones, I do. Quick march!’
They marched. The Croxteth Road was a long road, and on a snowy afternoon in December, a lonely road. But the two of them were soon so wrapped up in one another that they never noticed how far they had walked and in fact completely bypassed Lodge Lane, staying on the Croxteth Road until they reached the circus which heralded the Croxteth Gate. Here they walked between two wonderful mansions, only dimly seen through their surrounding trees despite the fact that the trees were leafless, and into the park at last.
‘Not far now,’ Dai said bracingly. ‘Soon we can sit down and I can show you … well, what I want to show you.’
‘How far’s not far?’ Biddy asked suspiciously. It was wonderful walking through the snow with Dai, but her feet were aching and she guessed that supper, albeit cold, would still tax her abilities to the utmost. Besides, they had not thought to bring an umbrella and since the snow had not held off for a moment the shoulders of her coat and the top of her scarf were already very wet indeed. ‘About another five or six miles, would you say?’
Dai snorted and turned her to face him. He bent down,
for he was quite a lot taller than her, and rubbed her nose with his, Eskimo fashion. ‘Poor little love, shall we give up and see if we can find a telephone booth? Then we could ring for a taxi and go home in comfort.’
‘No, indeed,’ Biddy said. She could no longer even feel her feet in the wellington boots, which was probably an advantage, since they must be freezing cold, she thought rather illogically. ‘Come on … shall we run?’
They ran, slowing to a walk quite soon though, because even cutting straight across the snow-covered grass and between the trees, it was a good distance. As they went they glanced at the ornamental lake on which a number of ducks and seagulls were crossly huddled, tails to wind.
‘The ice looks like it’s holding,’ Dai said with satisfaction. He squeezed her again. ‘Got any skates, Biddy?’
‘No. But I could put my stockings over my shoes,’ Biddy suggested. ‘I could slide great then, I bet.’
‘I bet!’ Dai turned her slightly and jerked his chin ahead of mem. ‘See that?’
It was not the aviary, not the palm house either, but it was what looked like a small workmen’s hut beneath the trees. It also looked sturdy and firmly shut.
‘That isn’t the aviary,’ Biddy objected. ‘It’s all shut up, we can’t go in there.’
‘Well, we’ll take a look,’ Dai decided. ‘It’s where they keep the deckchairs in the summer, I daresay. Come on.’
Since his arm was firmly looped around Biddy’s waist she had little choice but to ‘come on’, so the two of them crossed the intervening snowy grass, leaving an arrow-straight path of double footprints, and went over to the hut.
Dai tried the door and to Biddy’s astonishment, after a bit of creaking, it opened inwards, revealing a small, dusty but dry room in which, now that she looked about her, a caretaker or ticket-seller of some description must sit in summer, taking money or keeping an eye open through a small window whose shutters, however, were now firmly shut.
‘This isn’t bad,’ Dai said. He pulled a canvas chair forward and Biddy collapsed into it, then he got one out and set it up for himself.
‘Phew, that was a long walk,’ he said, leaning back and closing his eyes for a moment. ‘I wonder, was it worth it?’
Biddy giggled. ‘See how you feel when we get back to Ducie Street,’ she suggested. ‘How does frostbite start?’
Dai’s eyes shot open and he grinned provocatively across at her. ‘I should know – it’s one of the hazards of distant-water trawling. Tell you about it sometime I will, but right now … here, take it and tell me what you think, will you?’
He held a clenched fist out to her. Biddy could see by the way his fingers were curled that there was something quite large in his hand but she had no idea what it was. She wrinkled her nose doubtfully.
‘I’m not touching something I can’t see – for all I know it might be a toad or a lizard or – or a big, hairy spider.’
Dai shivered. ‘It’s not a spider; you wouldn’t catch me grabbing up a spider, not even for the pleasure of having you jump into my arms,’ he told her. ‘It’s nothing alive, honest.’
‘Ugh! Not … not a
dead
spider?’
‘Oh Biddy, how your mind do run on spiders,’ Dai said impatiently. ‘Can’t you think of nothing else?’
‘Well, no, because this strikes me as an awfully spidery sort of place,’ Biddy admitted, glancing uneasily round. ‘There are probably lots in here, under all the chairs, simply longing for a leg to run up … aaagh!’
She kicked out violently and Dai gave a shout of laughter.
‘Mad you are, girl – tilting at windmills next you’ll be! A large chunk of snow that was, melting and running down your knee and into your boot. And it’s not a creature in my hand, I promise you that, it’s something I’d like you to see. Be a brave girl, now.’
‘It won’t hurt or bite or make me jump?’ Biddy said nervously. The little hut, which had seemed such a refuge when they were out in the snow, was shadowy and smelt of dust – and spiders. ‘Do you promise, Dai?’
‘See this wet, see this dry, cross my heart and hope to die,’ Dai said, drawing a wetted finger across his throat. ‘Don’t you trust me, love?’
‘Yes I do,’ Biddy said. She held out her hand and gently took the object from his fingers as he released it. ‘Oh, Dai, what is it? I can’t see much in here, but it’s warm and smooth … is it marble?’
‘No, it’s amber. It’s what you females wear round your necks when it’s made into beads, or on a chain when it’s a pendant. It’s quite a big bit, make all sorts with it you could. It’s the most glorious colour, but you can’t see it in this light, you need strong sunshine. Drat, never thought of that, I didn’t, when I asked you to come out with me this afternoon.’
‘It doesn’t matter; it’s still beautiful,’ Biddy murmured. She tried to hand the amber back but Dai shook his head.
‘No. It’s for you, Biddy, a Christmas Box. And if you like it, I thought next Christmas I’d have it cut into beads, or a pendant and earrings for you.’
‘A Christmas Box? For me? Oh, but Dai, it’s much too beautiful! When would I wear amber, that’s what proper ladies
wear! Oh, isn’t it a lovely thing, though? I just like the feel of it, all warm in my palm.’
‘You’ll wear it when you’re a married lady, living in your own home with your man coming back to you from sea,’ Dai said softly. ‘You’ll wear a blue dress with pleats, an amber necklace and a narrow velvet ribbon round your throat. You’ll have your hair piled up on your head so you look like a little queen, only when I come home I’ll put my hands into it and take out the pins and ribbons and it will tumble down over my hands, down to your shoulders, and it will hide your blushes when I kiss you.’
There was a long silence. In the dusk, Dai could see her small face, downturned, her eyes lowered, fixed on the amber egg in her lap. Then, just when he as thinking he must have been mad to talk to her like that, she got to her feet and came over to him. She put her hands on his shoulders and lowered her face until it was only inches from his.
‘Dai, that was the loveliest thing anyone’s ever said to me. I know I shouldn’t, but I would love to keep the amber egg … at least until you find someone you’d rather give it to. We – we haven’t known each other long, it was just that we met in such strange circumstances …’
‘We’ve known one another long enough to share this seat,’ Dai said. He pulled her down onto his knee and she did not resist. ‘Biddy, you’re very young – how old are you, by the way? – but I’m going on for twenty-three and I know my own mind. No one but you will there be for me. Not ever. Make up your mind to that.’
‘I’m sixteen. I’ll be seventeen next June,’ Biddy murmured, her head resting comfortably in the hollow of his shoulder. ‘And though I’m not as old as you, my mind is every bit as made up. I knew it as soon as I looked at you. Only we’ll have to get to know one another better – I’m not earning very much, just ten shillings a week, but I can save, I’m an awful good saver.’
‘I’m an awful good spender,’ Dai said ruefully, against her hair. He had pulled off the wet scarf and cast it onto the spare chair as soon as she subsided onto his lap. ‘But I’ll start to save from this moment on. We’ll have a nice little home …’
‘Two children, a boy and a girl …’
‘A dog to take care of you whilst I’m at sea and a cow to give you milk …’
‘A cow? In the city? Dai, I wouldn’t know what to do to get the milk out!’
Dai laughed and kissed the side of her cold, snow-smelling face. ‘No, you daft girl! We shan’t live in the city, live on the Isle of Anglesey we will, near my people. Happy as the day is long you’ll be, honest you will.’
‘Oh! But they’ll speak Welsh, and I only speak English.’
‘And very nicely you speak it, too. Teach you Welsh in six months, I will – less, probably. And you’ll pick up milking the cow easy as easy.’
‘Oh, Dai, I’m a Catholic and I ’spect you’re a Proddy.’
‘Worse, I’m a Welsh Methodist; terrible old-fashioned and narrow-minded, to say nothing of bigoted, us Welsh Methodists. I go to chapel at home because my Mam did, but my religion don’t weigh too heavy on me. I’m not a religious man, cariad.’
‘Nor me, not when it comes to choosing a husband,’ Biddy said drowsily. The cold outside and the warmth of Dai’s arms were threatening to send her straight off to sleep. ‘Besides, the Father at St Anthony’s is a good man; I don’t think he’d mind so long as we loved one another. And even if he does mind, if we aren’t going to live in the ‘Pool I don’t suppose it matters much. Oh, Dai, am I dreaming? I keep thinking I should pinch myself. Are we really talking about marrying each other?’
‘That’s it. I wish I could say we’d marry tomorrow, cariad, but of course that’s impossible. There’s things we’ll need to arrange first. But when summer comes we’ll tie the knot, eh?’
‘Oh yes please, Dai,’ Biddy said fervently. ‘Only we’d best not tell anyone else, not yet. Dear Mrs Gallagher is so pleased to have a maid she can trust, and I am very happy with her. I’ve never been so happy since I was a kid, nor known anyone kinder. I was desperate when she took me in, I couldn’t hurt her in any way.’
‘Aye, a good soul is Nellie Gallagher; you can stay with her for a while, anyway, because I’ve my way to make,’ Dai told her. ‘And sooner or later I’ll have to go back to Moelfre and talk things through with my Da. We have quarrelled, cariad, but now I’ve a mind to go back, make things up. It’ll be easier for me, knowing you’re waiting in Liverpool.’ He laid her back against his arm and bent over her, starting to kiss her soft but willing lips. ‘Oh Biddy, I love you, I love you so much!’
‘Mm … mm,’ Biddy said, buzzing like a happy bee which finds itself deep in the scented heart of a rose. ‘Mm … mmm.’
They reached home late, to find the women busy in the kitchen preparing the cold supper. Dai went round the front door and waited until his love was settled before he rang the bell. She came rapidly across the hall, he could hear her
small feet clicking along, and opened the door to him. She smiled sweetly, wickedly, her eyes glowing with amusement.
‘Oh, good evening, Mr Evans. Have you had a pleasant afternoon? If you’ll just give me your coat and cap I’ll take them through to the kitchen and put them on the airer; I can see you’re very wet. Mr Gallagher and Mr Prescott and the children came in some time ago, so if you want to go up and have an early bath …’
There was no one else in the hall but the baize door was ajar and through it drifted the sounds of women talking and laughing in the kitchen. Dai grabbed Biddy
and kissed her soundly, then put her back from him.
‘Thank you, Biddy,’ he said solemnly. ‘I think I will have a bath … here’s my coat and cap … and my scarf. What time is supper?’
‘Supper’s in half an hour, Mr Evans, but Mrs Gallagher said to tell you that if you fancy a snack before then there are biscuits and hot toddy in the study, where Mr Gallagher and Mr Prescott are sitting.’
‘I’ll bath first, Biddy,’ Dai declared. He lowered his voice. ‘What did you do with the amber egg?’