Liverpool Revisited Page 8

  “I’m sure we can really work well together in the future” Gina said, and I noticed that her voice had an irritating, almost mocking tone to it. It would appear that Gina had problems with winning graciously. That and too much lipstick. I had already decided that I would do what I usually did and say nothing. Best way. No fuss. The lift arrived and we both got in. I pulled the inside cage door across and pressed the button for the ground floor and the lift began to descend. One of the bulbs in the lift had gone off and as the lift moved downwards Gina just stood there, grinning at me. It was obvious by her smug expression that she simply couldn’t wait to tell all of her mates that she had got the job. I just stood looking at her, but out of the corner of my eye in the half-darkness I saw my Mick slowly appear. He looked at me and smiled. That smile has broken my heart over the last twenty years and do you know what? I hope that it always will. I knew then what he wanted me to do. Enough was enough. Next time I glanced to where he had been he was gone. Turning to the inner cage door I grabbed the handle and pulled it open. This had the rather handy effect of bringing the lift to a sudden loud stop between floors. I’d been told that it is some kind of safety feature, apparently. I turned to face Gina, who had a look of confusion on her face.

  “I’m sure we can work together, Gina.” I smiled sweetly as the lift shook slightly as I approached her. From somewhere outside I could hear the sound of taped music playing. Sounded like bloody sitars or something. Gina nodded beside me, pleased we seemed to have reached a mutual level of respect. Yet she also looked surprised as well, no doubt wondering why I had stopped the lift. Without further ado I rushed at her and practically threw her across the lift, grabbing her lapels as I did so. I noticed somewhere in the back of my mind that the back of her head knocked lightly against the wall of the lift as I grabbed her. Just enough to keep her quiet. Her eyes however, were full of fear. Like most bullies, I suppose, all she actually needed to keep her in check was a bloody good kicking. I, however, was so much better than that.

  “Just for future reference however,” I said, and gave her my best sweetest little smile, “I’m warning you now that just in case you suddenly decide to get any funny ideas let me say that the first time you do anything” and I paused in the semi darkness, relishing the total confusion on her face, “The first time you do anything to piss me off or step on my toes or generally cause me any inconvenience at all” Gina nodded her head nervously, not sure exactly where this was heading, “Then I am going to take you up to the fifth floor stockroom and throw you out of the effing window. God knows it’s only a small window, but I’m sure I can get you through it.” She backed away from me and I was convinced she was going to cower in the corner. “Do you understand?” I whispered. Gina nodded nervously and I nodded to her once again and pulled the cage door shut. The lift immediately began to move again. Smiling like a loon I made my way back to the department slowly, desperately trying to imprint the look on Gina’s face into my mind.

  So there we have it. I’m still the shop assistant and Gina has been raised to the lofty reaches of assistant management. She keeps out of my way, though. I remember someone saying to me once that there’s a theory that every different choice that we make, every thing that we do can create a whole new reality just from that decision. Like there’s one world in which I did apply for the job, and other in which I didn’t. One world in which I got it, whilst currently I seem to be stuck in the world in which I didn’t get it. Seems a bit far-fetched as far as theories go if you ask me, but if it’s true then somewhere there’s a Sheila Teresa Roberts who is assistant department manager. I hope she’s happy. I really do.

  Me?

  I get by.

  I always do.

  There’s one last thing I need to tell you. That night when I went to bed I had a dream. It was probably the most realistic one I’ve ever had. I was sitting on my Mick’s lap. He looked as he always did, though it was now nearly twenty years since I waved him off to work and never saw him alive again. This time was different somehow. I have never before or since experienced a feeling as strong as that. It was raw, unconditional love as bright and as beautiful as a fire. It burnt me to my soul and filled me with love and sadness and joy all at the same time, until in the early hours it slowly ebbed and faded away. I knew by then what this was, of course. He had come to say goodbye.

  Was I sad? Not at all. He had filled me with such joy and left me with one certainty, and that was that the next time I saw him I just knew that we would be together forever. That feeling stays with me even now. If I am sure of anything it is that.

  Anyway, as I said earlier on, my name is Sheila Teresa Roberts and they say that I’m a lipstick girl. Or at least that’s what some people would call me. I work in the big fancy department store in Liverpool. I’ve worked there for nearly thirty years now. Always on the makeup and perfumery department. It kind of suits me really. Or it did. Because, just perhaps, there is something else out there for me. Cut out the drinking and do my best to leave these sad sods behind me. I’d love above all to work with children. Perhaps one day I will. I think what I am trying to say is that it is quite possible that I really am better than I think I am.

  Maybe – just maybe – I’m not a lipstick girl at all.

  The History Detectives.

  Part One: A Nice Little Folder.

  The journalist placed her pad on her knee and picked up the cup of tea that Billy had placed in front of her a few minutes ago. The minute she did so Billy was on his feet once again, this time pushing a plate of biscuits towards her. Mumbling a quick thanks around her last chocolate digestive she picked up another one and as if not quite sure what to do with it, placed it on her notepad.

  “Don’t mind if I do.” she said, “I didn’t know that they still made these. I used to love them when I was a kid. I haven’t had one for years!”

  “Oh they’re very popular, Sarah” said Billy taking one for himself and settling back in his armchair. It had taken Sarah nearly half an hour to get Billy to call her by her first name, referring to her before that as, “Ms Clarke”. She seemed to have finally harangued him into submission however.

  “Well they’re certainly very popular in this house!” said his wife Sue who was sitting beside him on the long black leather couch. Sarah thought that they looked like any other couple really, which wasn’t unusual at all. She had often found during the course of her job that the strangest things could happen to the most ordinary people. Still, they were a very nice couple, she had found. Not like some of the people she had to interview for the local paper. Despite it being her job she had grown to detest the wasters, criminals or worse she had to deal with on what seemed like a daily basis. No, she had decided that Billy and Sue were as nice a couple as you could possibly wish to meet. They also had milk chocolate digestives, which was a big plus. As she sipped from her tea Sarah considered their appearance once again, as she had done when she had first arrived nearly half an hour ago. Although both retired, neither Billy or Sue had the appearance of being terribly old. The notes that she had made so far (before the tea arrived) indicated that Billy was sixty one and Sue sixty two. To this Sue had referred to Billy as her, “toy boy” which they had all had a bit of a laugh about, especially when Billy began to blush.

  Her notes also revealed that Billy had taken early retirement after a set of redundancies at the car factory where he worked, and Sue had officially retired the year before from her school cleaning job as she was now beyond the retirement age. Sarah placed her cup back down on the small table in front of them and picked her notepad up again.

  “Back to work.” she smiled, wiping a stubborn biscuit crumb from the corner of her mouth. “So where were we up to?” she asked, waving her pen at them. Billy smiled, happy to let Sue do the talking. Or so that seemed to be the way of it so far. Sarah made a mental note to quiz Billy a little more closely once Sue had exhausted herself. So far though she had shown no hint of slowing down whatsoever.

  Upon h
er arrival Sarah had noted that the semi-detached two up two down was in a relatively nice area, and although a little old fashioned inside was not really giving her the impression of a house where old people lived. There was a certain lack of the smell of boiled cabbage, and definitely no budgie. She had chided herself for her cynicism a little later on, for she found that Billy and Sue were such nice people. Sue was very outgoing, Billy a little more reserved, but with a dry sense of humour. She considered that both of them had probably been quite a handsome couple when they were younger, but if she had been forced to voice an opinion she would have said that the pair of them probably looked around about ten years younger than they actually were, and most definitely did not look like a pair of near pensioners. This was reflected by the choice of decor in the front room, and Sarah assumed the house as well. It had the look of a home that was occupied by a middle aged couple rather than that of a pensioners house. Nevertheless it was not entirely a modern home, but neither was it cluttered with obscure, strange ornaments whose sole purpose seemed to be to gather dust.

  “So when did you discover you had a flair for genealogy? I think our readers would be very interested in that. It was quite a bit of luck really, when I noticed your advertisement in our paper. I knew straight away it would make a really good story.” said Sarah, waiting for Sue to answer. To her surprise it was Bill who replied.

  “We prefer to call it family trees.” he said. “Genealogy seems a little elitist.” he paused, rubbing his chin. “Plus a lot of people have no idea what it means. They may think I’m some kind of bloody surgeon or something.” Sue giggled beside him. “Family trees is what we call it. Very nicely we’ve done out of it too. The money certainly helped once I was made redundant. Five years before I could claim a state pension it was at that point. Not that a state pension is going to go that far! Though the redundancy helped pay off the house and what have you.” Sarah nodded. “It also enabled me to buy my first computer and that as well.” Continued Bill. “I had never bothered with one before. To be honest I thought it was all beyond me, but once I started using it I found it was all pretty straight forward.”

  “I think he only really got it so he could watch the foreign football online.” said Sue, taking up the story. Bill chuckled at this and Sarah thought that this was probably the case, judging by his guilty expression. “Though we soon found that family trees could be a lot more entertaining, didn’t we, Bill?” Sue asked, and Bill nodded.

  “I happened upon it by accident, really. I’ve always had a bit of an interest in my own family tree and when I was talking to a few guys down the pub they seemed pretty interested too. I found a couple of websites and after a few months I had a fairly respectable printed out family tree. They were real impressed down the pub! A few of the lads asked me if I could do one for them and some of the staff too. Even said they would pay for it.”

  “So I designed a couple of forms for background stuff and what have you.” said Sue. “A starting point, if you like. And off we went.” Sarah waited for either one of the two to continue but they seemed to have paused to think, remembering how they had gone about setting up their genealogy business. She glanced at her shorthand and it was Billy who took up the reins.

  “Eventually I had the first family tree done and printed out. Nice paper and so on. I couldn’t figure out how to parcel it up though. A big envelope didn’t seem right. We thought about rolling it into a tube, didn’t we, Sue?” he said and Sue smiled in agreement.

  “In the end we decided to put it all into a folder.” she said. “People like a nice folder, don’t you think, Sarah?” Sarah nodded in agreement, though if forced to give an honest opinion she would have had to have said that she had not really noticed this particular trait in people in general at all. Still, a nice folder it was.

  “So there we were. Twenty quid seemed reasonable after all the research we had to do.” continued Billy. “I felt a bit awkward about it really, though it had taken some time it wasn’t as if it was that hard to do. Certainly wasn’t anything that anyone else couldn’t have done if they set their mind to it. But the bloke down the pub I had done it for was absolutely made up, and handed the twenty quid over without even thinking about it.” Billy paused to think for a minute and took a sip of his tea. “He even went as far to buy my drinks for the night, I seem to remember.”

  “Humph.” Snorted Sue. “I remember that night all too well. You were staggering through the door just after midnight.” Billy smiled. “I think I even had to help you up the stairs to bed you were all over the place!” Billy laughed out loud at this and placed his tea cup on the table once again.

  “Well, that was that.” he said, “We were up and running. That was nearly a year ago now.”

  Sarah looked at her notes. “So now your genealogy business is doing very nicely, I understand?” she said and both Billy and Sue nodded.

  “Very nicely indeed.” Sue volunteered. “It seems like there’s no end of people wanting a family tree.”

  “All in a nice little folder, too!” Laughed Billy and Sue blushed slightly at the ribbing as Billy carried on. “So far we’ve upgraded the computer twice, bought a colour laser printer for a good finish on the printed charts and we also have a very healthy queue of people waiting for us to investigate their family trees. It really has worked out very nicely over all. Not many people can say they are more or less earning a living from what started out as a hobby now, can they?”

  Sarah shook her head as Sue asked if anyone wanted more tea. As she was having such a nice time with the two older people Susan decided that she would have another cup, and Billy seemed pretty keen too. So Sue gathered up the cups onto the tray and off she went to put the kettle on. “So where did you get the name of your company from then?” asked Sarah and Billy frowned as if trying to remember, before calling through to Sue in the kitchen.

  “Sue!” he called, “Was it your idea or mine for the company name?” he asked and Sue appeared in the kitchen doorway once again, drying a cup with a pastel shaded tea towel.

  “It was yours!” she exclaimed. “I can’t believe that you can’t remember that!” With that she sighed and rolled her eyes at Sarah and then went back in to the kitchen to make the tea.

  “Do you want a hand?” called Billy after her, to which Sue answered in the negative. “You see, Sarah” he said, laughing gently. “Sue has always had a talent for crosswords and stuff like that. I think she must be a lateral thinker or something.”

  “I’m listening to you, Billy!” Sue called from the kitchen and Billy smiled before continuing, pulling a face as he did so.

  “So it’s a bit like that when you’re researching someone’s family tree. Sometimes you have to make a leap of faith from one date to the next or from one name to another. But Sue‘s pretty good at that kind of stuff, as I said. She very rarely gets it wrong. Like a kind of gut instinct or the like. There’s always a bit of history that needs looking at as well. That to me is the really fascinating stuff. It’s strange the things you find out. Places you walk around perhaps every day and you never notice something that has been there all along. A piece of history wrapped around a building, perhaps a plaque or a certain window.” He paused as if racking his brains. “I’ll give you an example. The Liver buildings, right?” Sarah wrote this all down as he continued. “The circumference of the clock face is bigger across than the clock face on Big Ben by two feet. Didn’t know that did you now? That’s the problem you see, Sarah. People never look up. Too busy just getting on with getting through the day as quick as they can, it seems. Now me and Sue, well, we have both always naturally looked up. That’s the difference between us two and everyone else, I think.”

  Sarah scribbled this down furiously, whilst at the same time trying to keep up with Billy. This was good copy! Billy seemed to be a bit more of a thinker than perhaps he was letting on! She let him continue.

  “So the name we gave the company seemed pretty obvious, really.”

  “The
History Detectives.” said Sarah. “It’s really catchy!” Sue reappeared bearing a tray with fresh tea and sat back down.

  “We think so.” said Sue. “Gives it an air of glamour too!” and Billy nodded in agreement. “Better than Family Trees ‘R’ Us, anyway!” she finished and Billy roared with laughter.

  “That was what I wanted to call it!” he laughed and Sarah joined in too.

  “That one’s a bit naff!” she laughed and they all sat chuckling for a while as the tea was replenished and the biscuits were handed around once again. They sat in silence for a while as the biscuits were eaten.

  “Actually we’ve been busy as real detectives recently.” Said Sue. Sarah noticed that Billy was looking at his wife as if trying to get her to stop. “Haven’t we, Billy?” she continued, however.

  “That we have.” He replied. Sarah looked at them both expectantly, willing either one of them to continue. With a sigh Billy nodded just once, almost as if he was giving Sue permission to continue. Sue smiled.

  “I think we probably need to start right at the beginning. Get it in the right order.” Said Sue, taking up the story of whatever was coming next.

  “Yes.” said Billy, once again frowning as he brought the sequence of events to mind. “It all really started at the garden centre, I think.” Sue nodded beside him.

  “Yes. The garden centre.” she said, also frowning. “That was where it all began.”

  Part Two: The Potter’s Wheel (Or just another bloody garden centre).

  Billy drove into the garden centre car park and chose a spot to park up. It was mid-week just after lunch, which he thought was shorthand for, “No bugger but bloody pensioners going to be in here at this time”. Although he was sixty one himself, as far as he was concerned he still theoretically, at least, had four more years before he was eligible for a state pension and therefore he was still technically speaking, middle aged, and not a pensioner in any way at all. Sue got out of the car and waited for him to get out too. Now Sue was a pensioner, he thought, and he never quite managed to prevent himself from teasing her about it. Still, she took it in good heart, he mused. God help him in four years’ time!