Free A Liverpool Song by Ruth Hamilton

her sister. ‘Did you know?’
    ‘Well, I—’
    ‘DID YOU KNOW?’
    Kate nodded.
    ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
    ‘Because . . . well, I didn’t want to hurt you. And the messenger sometimes gets shot. Where are we going?’
    ‘To Daddy’s. It’s bigger than your house, and I quite like Blundellsands.’
    ‘There’s nothing wrong with Woolton,’ Kate said. ‘And I’ll look after you. Helen, you’ve a new baby and—’
    ‘Oh, shut up. Look after me? If you’d kept me in the picture . . . Did he touch you or any of our friends?’
    Kate could only nod. For the first time ever, Helen had taken the lead. ‘He’s a randy bastard. Sorry, babe.’
    Helen looked her sister up and down as if assessing a stranger. ‘You betrayed me by your silence. Now, I don’t care how drunk you are. Fill your car with my stuff; the suitcases are
in my dressing room. When you run out of cases, use plastic bags. Take the cases and bags to Rosewood, empty them out, then come back with the cases for the rest of it. I’ll pack for the
children and take them in my car. I am disgustingly sober.’
    ‘As am I now.’
    ‘Good. You might just survive, and you may even keep your licence. Don’t forget, you’ll need change for the tunnel. Sorry to have inconvenienced you by moving across the river
to Neston.’
    By ten o’clock, both cars were filled to bursting, though the good news was that Kate wouldn’t have to return. The few bits and pieces of Helen’s that were not on board were
maternity wear or aged beyond revival.
    They began the drive across the Wirral, a place Helen had come to love. She would miss the open fields, the farms, and Ness Gardens, a wondrous place that was the property of Liverpool
University. Students came there to study botany, and Helen had often tagged along. She was leaving behind a whole way of life, but she would stick to her guns. Daniel was finished, and she intended
to take him to the cleaners. His clothes, on the other hand, would need no cleaning. Oh yes, the man would have to learn to look on the bright side.
    Kate unlocked her father’s front door. She was accosted immediately by something that seemed to move at the speed of light.
    Andrew appeared. He was rubbing his eyes, and it was plain that he’d been dozing in his armchair. ‘Kate?’
    She dumped the first lot of luggage in the hall. The dog returned, jumped up and almost knocked her off her feet. ‘Helen won’t like you,’ she advised him. ‘Jump up at
that baby, and you’ll be toast.’
    Andrew remained confused. ‘What’s going on?’ he asked.
    ‘Helen’s coming home,’ was all the reply Kate offered before going for more cases and bin liners.
    ‘Coming home?’ he asked the dog. ‘She has a home on the Wirral. Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, Storm, but Eva is not the only human female who speaks no sense. Come on.
Let’s put you somewhere safe.’
    When he returned, Andrew’s younger daughter was in the hall. ‘Hello, Daddy. I’m afraid this is an invasion, but it can’t be helped. I need four bedrooms; two for the
children, one for me and one for the nanny. She had the night off, so I’ll send for her tomorrow. Close your mouth, dear, there’s a bus coming.’
    Andrew clamped his teeth together. ‘What the hell’s happened?’
    ‘He’s in bed with an Amsterdam whore. Well, he was. By now, he’ll be somewhere over the Channel unless the plane has crashed. One can only hope. Though it would be a pity if
other passengers suffered.’
    A two-year-old Sarah, still sleeping, was deposited in Andrew’s arms. ‘Take her upstairs, Daddy,’ Kate ordered.
    He complied. Where his daughters were concerned, resistance was futile. He remembered Kate dressing him down a few years ago, accusing him and Mary of near neglect, so he’d better start
trying to atone for past sins. The feel of the child in his arms was lovely. Sarah was beautiful, dark-haired and perfect like her mother. And like her