Free Film Stars Don't Die in Liverpool by Peter Turner Page B

just yet. The doctor
doesn’t want to be disturbed. Come down. I’ve made a pot of tea.’
    Reluctantly I followed Jessie to the kitchen.
    ‘What’s going on? What’s happened to Gloria? Why didn’t you wake me up?’
    ‘Nothing’s happened. Everything’s still the same.’ Jessie pulled up the flaps of a carton of milk, only from the wrong end. ‘Oh look what I’ve gone and
done,’ she said and wiped away the splash. ‘It’s just that the doctor came round again to visit Gloria and we didn’t think to wake you. Anyway, we thought you needed the
sleep.’
    ‘How long has he been here?’ I asked.
    ‘Oh, not long. It can’t be more than half an hour. Don’t be so agitated. Sit down and have a drink of tea.’
    I sat on the edge of a chair and leant my elbows on the table.
    ‘Oh, I forgot,’ Jessie said. ‘You like a mug, don’t you? I’ve gone and poured a cup.’
    ‘That doesn’t matter, I don’t care what I have.’
    The electric bulb, hanging from the ceiling in a plastic shade, threw out a dull white light. Carrier bags stuffed with sheets and towels, and a bundle of clothes on the floor in the corner,
were waiting to go to the launderette. The sink was piled with dishes, mostly cups and saucers, needing to be washed. The room looked miserable, I thought.
    ‘Everything’s a bit of a mess,’ I said.
    ‘Now, eh.’ Jessie pointed at me with a spoon. ‘I’ve been awake all night and your mother’s been up since five. Joe hasn’t slept much either but he’s had
to go and see how things are at work. We’re all a bit tired to say the least. Anyway, you look a bit of a mess yourself. If I was you I’d have a bath.’
    ‘You’re right. I think that’s what I’ll do.’
    Jessie was standing with her coat on when I returned from taking my bath. My mother was sitting with her head down, one hand holding her forehead, the other clutching an
airmail letter. Their conversation faded as I entered the room.
    ‘It’ll be all right.’ I heard Jessie murmur. Then she turned to me and said, ‘Your mother’s got word from Billy in Australia. It’s about the final
arrangements.’
    ‘That’s good, isn’t it?’ I smiled across at my mother. ‘At last you’re definitely going.’
    ‘I’m saying nothing,’ my mother announced and put the letter behind the clock. ‘Not until everything’s been sorted out in this house. I’ve waited sixteen
years to go on this holiday! I’ve waited sixteen years to see my son! All this has put the mockers on the lot. Now I won’t be going anywhere.’
    ‘Of course you will. Gloria’s sister will be getting here soon. She’ll help to work things out.’
    ‘Let’s see her get here first. If it was my sister I would have been here from the start.’
    She started sorting through the bundle of clothes on the floor, separating the coloureds into a black plastic bag.
    ‘The doctor’s just gone. We couldn’t call you because you were in the bath.’ Jessie attempted to change the subject. ‘But he’s coming back later
today.’
    ‘What did he have to say?’ I asked.
    ‘I’ll tell you what he had to say.’ My mother stood up and dropped the black plastic bag to the floor. Surrounded by dirty clothes, she stood indomitable in the centre of the
room. ‘He’s never known anything like it in his life! Hollywood’s got nothing on this,’ she cried and threw her hands in the air. ‘I feel as though I’m living in
a picture – and I’ve got the lousy part.’ She hauled up the black plastic bag with one arm and started up the steps to the hall. ‘I’m going round to the washhouse.
I’ve had enough of this place for today.’
    ‘I’ll follow you on,’ Jessie said. ‘I’ll bring the other bags.’
    ‘Will you do something for me, Son?’ My mother paused at the top of the steps and looked me clear in the eye. ‘I want you to phone Billy and tell him I won’t be
coming.’
    ‘I think that you were right, Peter,’ Jessie said