Daughters of Liverpool by Annie Groves

RAF officer, who in Katie’s opinion had thought rather too much of himself, Katie had the galling experience of sitting at their table and watching as the angry, good-looking corporal danced expertly past with another girl. Katie rarely got the chance to dance and when she did it was even rarer for her to have the kind of partner who danced well. Musicians did not in general have much spare time to learn to dance. And now here was this soldier who had danced with her as woodenly as though he were a puppet on strings, dancing with another girl so well that it was no wonder she looked as though she was in seventh heaven.
    ‘Phew,’ Carole announced breathlessly, sinking down into her chair as her partner returned her to their table, ‘that was fun. You’ll never guess what,’ she added after she had finished fanning herself energetically with her hand, ‘Andy’s only asked me if I’ll go to the pictures with him the next time he gets a pass out. The boys are based only down the road at Seacombe.’ She gave Katie an arch look. ‘I saw you dancing with that corporal; he’s ever so good-looking, isn’t he?’
    ‘Is he? I hadn’t noticed,’ Katie lied.
    Carole laughed and shook her head in a way that implied that she didn’t believe Katie for one minute.
       
    Whilst the band was playing it was relatively easy to forget what was happening outside, butwhenever the music stopped the sound of German planes dropping bombs was a stark reminder of the reality of the situation.
    Whilst Katie and Carole were in the ladies, two other girls were discussing the bombing, one of them complaining to the other, ‘I told you we shouldn’t have come out tonight after the bombing last night. If we’d done as I said then we’d be safe in a proper air-raid shelter now.’
    Her friend tossed her brown curls and argued firmly, ‘Well, I’d rather be bombed here, whilst I’m enjoying meself, than stuck in some air-raid shelter, and besides, they aren’t always safe. There was that one at the Durning Road Technical School where all those poor folk were killed in November, and I’ve heard of others as well. If a bomb drops on a shelter, then you could end up being buried alive. At least if we bought it here, I’d have had some fun.’
    ‘Fun. That’s all you think about, Marianne Dunkin. I’m more interested in staying alive,’ her friend retorted tearfully, ‘and if you think I’m letting you persuade me to come dancing again whilst this war’s on then you’ve got another think coming.’
    They were still arguing as they left the cloakroom, the door swinging closed after them.
    Carole, who had gone unusually quiet and rather pale, shivered and asked Katie anxiously, ‘You don’t think we’ll get bombed again, do you?’
    ‘Of course not. No one ever gets bombed twice in the same night,’ Katie reassured her with a conviction she was far from feeling.
    * * *
    The toffee-nosed girl seemed to be enjoying herself dancing with the young Canadian airman who was partnering her now, Luke recognised as he watched Katie dance past. The Canadian looked pretty smitten with her. Well, more fool him, since he was only a lowly private.
    Luke was itching to leave the Grafton and set to with the work he knew would be going on, to do what could be done to counter the effects of the bombing, but his first duty was to his men. He had sneaked outside a couple of times to look with despair at the destruction that the bombs had caused. The electric tram wires were down along the West Derby Road, outside the Grafton, and broken glass from blown-out windows covered the road. Instead of the Christmas skies being filled with Santa’s sledge piled high with the presents of children’s fairy tales, the skies over Liverpool were filled with the Luftwaffe, bringing death and destruction as Christmas ‘gifts’ to the people of the city.
       
    They had made it. Emily leaned gratefully on the inside of the front door as she stood in the