Free Liverpool Annie by Maureen Lee

that were dry, spreading the still damp clothes out so they'd be ready for ironing by tomorrow. Her hands were shaking as she pulled the rack up and wound the rope around the hook in the wall.
    Could it be that Mam really was so full of a mixture of hate and love that she'd deliberately shut herself off from the world just to punish Dad? Or maybe it was herself she was punishing for leaving Johnny alone. Either way it wasn't fair, Annie thought bitterly.
    In the end, she decided she'd probably imagined the whole thing. Mam hadn't been stroking her head, not really. It had merely been an involuntary action and she didn't know what she was doing.
    Any other explanation didn't bear thinking about.
    On Christmas Eve, Annie set off with Sylvia's record tucked under her arm and permission from Dad to stay out late - not that Marie, who came home at all hours, ever asked. After the Grand had closed they were all going to Midnight Mass, even Bruno, who, said Sylvia, had promised not to sneer. He'd offered to bring Annie home by car. Annie had been looking forward to the evening ever since Sylvia had suggested it.
    'If you've nothing else to do on Christmas Eve, why don't you come and have supper? We could play records and talk.'
    Supper! Annie hadn't realised you could ask someone to supper, and they were going to have a glass of wine with the meal!
    Although it was only half seven, through the window she could see the Grand was already packed with customers. Every table was occupied and there were crowds massed around the bar. The noise was deafening.
    She went round the side and rang the bell, and had to ring a second time before Sylvia answered. To Annie's surprise, she wore a plain black dress and a white apron. The scratch on her cheek had faded to pink.
    'Oh, Annie!' she cried dramatically. 'How I wish you were on the telephone and I could have prevented you from coming!'
    Annie's heart sank. 'What's wrong?' she asked, hoping her awful disappointment didn't show on her face.
    'Two of the waitresses haven't turned up.' She dragged Annie into the lobby. 'We are all at sevens and eights at the moment.'
    'Sixes and sevens.' Annie made an attempt at a smile.
    'There's a dinner for thirty in the Regency Room and a party in the Snug. I'm so sorry, Annie, I was really looking forward to tonight, but I can't desert Cecy when she only has one helper.'
    'I'll help,' offered Annie, praying the offer would be accepted. She would do anything rather than return to Orlando Street.
    'Sylvia!' Cecy shouted impatiently. 'The soup's waiting.'
    'Coming!' Sylvia shouted back. She turned to Annie, looking sceptical. 'Another pair of hands would be more than welcome, but it's not a very exciting way to spend Christmas Eve.'
    'I don't mind a bit what I do.'
    Sylvia still looked sceptical. 'Are you sure?'
    Annie nodded with all the enthusiasm she could muster. 'Positive!'
    'In that case, hang your coat up and come into the kitchen.'
    'Sylvia! ' Cecy screamed.
    The kitchen was a long room at the back which ran the entire width of the hotel. Several pans, lids rattling, steamed on the eight-ringed stove. Wearing a white overall, a red and perspiring Cecy was carving a massive turkey. A middle-aged woman dressed like Sylvia was just leaving with a tray laden somewhat precariously with bowls of soup.
    'Annie's come to help,' said Sylvia.
    'Take those sandwiches to the Snug,' Cecy snapped.
    'I'll show you.' Sylvia picked up a tray of soup. As they went upstairs, she said, 'My grandparents are asleep in all this chaos. Their plane was held up, the train was late and they're exhausted. That's the Snug.' She nodded towards a door on the left.
    Annie knocked. There was a buzz of voices inside,
    It no-one answered, so she cautiously opened the door
    d went in. The room was thick with smoke. A dozen
    ople in armchairs seemed to be engaged in a furious
    gument with everyone else. A dozen hands reached
    r the sandwiches and she found herself holding a
    agically empty