Free The Liverpool Trilogy by Ruth Hamilton Page A

new slums with her dad’s money. There’s no lack of brain in her. She just bides her time.’
    ‘She knows he’s ill?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘And she doesn’t care?’
    He thought about that. ‘She does – that’s the daft part. She phoned the Bolton hospital at least twice from the Countess of Chester. But she did say he’s his own worst enemy. Very plain, she was. She said a man who drinks like that, who eats like that, and has sex all over the place can’t expect to see old age.’
    ‘Phew. That is plain for Mother.’
    He stood up and opened a door. ‘Come on, kid. Let’s see if the lion’s started to roar again.’
     

Three

    Mike and Liz returned after a further couple of nights to a very bare-looking Tallows. Liz, who had tried hard not to think about the emptying of the family home, burst into tears when she saw the results of her hasty action. ‘I shouldn’t have done it,’ she moaned. ‘Just look at it – two chairs and a sofa. It looks like an empty barn. Poor, abandoned old house. It’s as if no one loves or wants it.
    ‘I hope you left the beds and bedding,’ he said drily, a twinkle in his eye. ‘After sleeping on a mattress on the floor for two nights, we need proper beds. And, now that Dad’s managed to live for forty-eight hours without the need for jump-leads, perhaps we can have a bash at getting back to normal. Come on, sis – no need for tears.’
    Normal? Liz could scarcely remember what the word meant. Her father was a cheat, a fraud and a liar. He was very ill, could die at any moment and, if he did live, would be able to do next to nothing. Mother had bogged off because he’d stolen all her inheritance and mortgaged a valuable house. How could anything ever be normal again? About one thing only she was certain. Whatever happened, she would carry on at RADA. She wanted Royal Shakespeare, and nothing less would do. She dried her eyes and grinned. Who was she trying to kid? Anything would do as long as there was an audience. Even a TV advertisement for pile cream would—
    ‘Beds, Lizzie? You know – the things people sleep on? Do we have some? Or have you mothballed them, too?’
    ‘Oh, sorry. The bedrooms are exactly as they were, apart from some of Mother’s French stuff and a couple of armoires and things from the guest rooms. But it looks all wrong upstairs as well. It’s strange. It’s not home any more, is it? You think you’re grown up, then stuff like this happens, and you realize you’re still a kid that needs its comfort blanket. What sad and sorry creatures we are.’
    ‘It will be all wrong without Mums,’ he said. ‘OK, so my car’s in Chester, as is Paul’s, because Mums took him back to her other place – he says it’s great, by the way. Anyway, you’re the only one who’s mobile. Tomorrow, we bring our mother home. We can’t leave this place empty. It needs her – let’s face it, Mums is Tallows.’
    Liz sat down. ‘Be careful, Mike,’ she said. ‘Whatever you do, try not to take her for granted, because she’s changed, and that change has taken a lot of doing. She’s achieved it quietly, slowly and secretly. Don’t for one moment imagine that you know what’s best for her. You sounded like Daddy just then. Being a man doesn’t mean you know what’s right. She’s been walked over all her life, and I feel ashamed, because I should have noticed. Since she fled, I’ve been thinking about her, about the life she’s led, her patience, the way she tolerated Daddy. She’s a bloody good woman, Mike. Give her respect. Respect means not telling her what to do. Understood?’
    He placed himself in the other chair. ‘She can’t let him live here.’
    ‘Look, she can do exactly as she pleases. If he gets out of hospital in one piece, Mother will decide what to do – if anything. She owes him very little. It’s the other way round, isn’t it? He owes her. That quiet lady we lived with is still there. But behind the softness there’s a