Free Lights Out Liverpool by Maureen Lee Page B

running round the street, knocking on doors, telling everyone.
    ‘She had to know sometime,’ Aggie replied in an aggrieved voice.
    ‘Well, you should’ve left it to me or me dad to tell her.’ Eileen turned on her heel towards her sister’s house. Somehow, she’d never thought that war would touch them so quickly and so personally. She recalled the day of the party, what a celebration that had been. Someone had said, ‘You’re getting out just in time, Joey.’ But the Flahertys hadn’t got out quick enough. Still, maybe they were all safe and sound, but even so, it must have been a terrible experience and would put a blight on the new life they were so looking forward to.
    Sheila’s front door was open as usual, and Ryan and Caitlin were playing in the hall. As Eileen struggled over the gate, she was surprised to hear the sound of laughter coming from the parlour and recognised Annie’s voice.
    Eileen paused in the parlour doorway, blinking. ‘What the hell are they?’
    Two monstrous contraptions, each made out of a combination of rubber and canvas with a little grille at one end and connected to an attachment similar to a set of bellows, stood on the polished table.
    ‘Baby gas masks! The District Nurse just brought them.’ Sheila could scarcely speak for laughing.
    ‘Gerraway! How do they work?’ Eileen approached cautiously. ‘They don’t half look complicated.’
    ‘They are. In case of an attack, I’ve to put Mary in one and Ryan in the other, like, then pump like bloody hell so they don’t suffocate.’ Tears were running down Sheila’s red cheeks. ‘Trouble is, I can only manage one at a time.’
    ‘Not only that, Eileen, but she’ll be wearing a gas mask herself.’ Annie was doubled up in mirth. ‘Never mind, Shiel, I’ll shoot over if there’s a gas attack and pump one for you.’
    ‘That’s if you’re not already dead yourself,’ gasped Sheila.
    For some reason, this made them howl. ‘It doesn’t seem the least bit funny to me,’ said Eileen, mystified.
    Annie rubbed her eyes. ‘I suppose, luv, it’s just a case of if you don’t laugh, you’ll only cry.’
    Then Eileen understood. Cal had gone, Annie’s boys were gone, the
Athenia
had been sunk, and this was how her friend and her sister were coping with their grief, hiding it behind a display of unnatural high spirits over something which wasn’t funny at all. In fact, when you thought about it, baby gas masks were anything but a laughing matter
    It was probably the finest kitchen in the finest road in Calderstones, the most exclusive area of Liverpool. Twenty-five feet square, the floors were tiled with cream stone, each square engraved with a brown fleur de lys. The freshly washed floor, the twin cream enamel sinks, the double draining board, the silver taps, all sparkled in the sunshine which came streaming through the long narrow lattice window and the lace curtain lifted gently in the soft afternoon breeze. A large cream refrigerator hummed noisily, a comforting, welcome sound. In pride of place stood the Aga cooker. Also cream, it served the central heating system, and a few coals glowed behind the thick glass door. Over the years, several people had come especially to see the Aga, curious to know how it worked before they bought one for themselves, and Jessica Fleming would explain its marvels before finishing off, ‘Of course, it was frightfully expensive.’ People would leave, impressed, not just with the Aga, but with Jessica herself. At forty-three, she was a magnificent woman with a milky, almost dazzling complexion, unusual dark green eyes, and a startling head of red wavy hair. The hair was slightly more red than it had been in her youth, as nowadays Jessica used henna to disguise unwelcome streaks of grey.
    Now, sitting in the corner referred to as ‘the nook’, with its gingham-covered table and teak chairs, Jessica regarded her lovely kitchen with a feeling of unmitigated rage. Soon it would no