Frank Feeny struggled to adjust to the bright glare of daylight after the relative dimness of the bunker, where he’d been on duty all night. It was a fine May morning, but all about him were signs of destruction. The centre of the city he thought he knew so well had been transformed. Carefully making his way over the remains of shattered buildings, he stared around him in horrified disbelief. Of course they’d known from their underground offices that there had been a severe raid taking place above ground, but knowing it in theory and seeing it in practice were two very different things. Now the grim reality hit him.
He found many of the roads were closed and he had to divert when and where possible. He had no plan in mind, but felt compelled to see as much of it for himself as he could before he attempted to get back to his billet – if it was still standing. He thought of the landlady, strict and severe. He hadn’t bothered making the effort to become friends; in fact their paths rarely crossed as his shifts were so irregular. But he didn’t wish her ill. While it could never be called home, his Spartan small room served a useful purpose and he could do with falling into the narrow bed right now. But he had to see for himself what the night’s raids had done.
Picking his way through rubble and shattered glass, he found himself in front of one of the city centre’s biggest and most popular shops: Lewis’s. Or rather, what was left of it. He gasped at the scale of the damage. Not that he or his family had made a habit of shopping there; usually they made do with the goods in the local markets. But Kitty always talked about it as somewhere she’d buy her clothes if she could, and he’d often vowed to himself he would give her something nice from there – just as a token of friendship; of course there could be nothing else to it now that he was so badly injured. He grimaced. Getting around on his artificial leg on all the uneven pavements was more of a problem than he’d ever admit to anyone.
‘Frank! Frank Feeny!’
A bright female voice jolted him out of the uncharacteristic moment of self-pity. Glancing down the street he caught sight of a figure with striking platinum- blonde hair, wrapped in what looked to be a very expensive long coat. There was only one person it could be.
‘Gloria! I didn’t know you were back in town,’ he called as she approached him. Impulsively he stepped forwards and gave her a hug. He’d known her since she was a toddler, and now her presence here brought him back down to earth.
Gloria gave a wry smile. ‘Picked the right time to pay a visit, didn’t I? Nice of Hitler to send a welcoming committee.’ She shook her head. ‘Look at this place. And to think I was planning to go shopping there later. Don’t suppose they’ll be open today.’
‘Not for a while, if ever, I’d say.’ Frank gazed at the once impressive frontage of the tall building, now all but destroyed. ‘You’ll have to get your glad rags elsewhere, Gloria.’
‘Maybe I won’t bother.’ Gloria flashed him her brilliant smile. ‘Suddenly I’m not in the mood for shopping.’
Frank raised an eyebrow. The Gloria he remembered of old was clothes-mad, which was just one of the reasons she got on so well with his sister Nancy. But war changed everyone. ‘Up here for work, are you?’
Gloria nodded. ‘Can you believe I was singing last night at the Adelphi when this all began? We tried to carry on but it was no good. Usually I’m quite happy to keep on singing for as long as there’s an audience to listen, but this lot got a bit close for comfort. Have you seen much of it?’
Frank shrugged. ‘I came straight from my night shift down in Derby House. I’ve been wandering round ever since. Fancy joining me for a while? I don’t know why, but I feel that as I’m here, in the middle of it all, I need to see with my own eyes what’s happened.’
Gloria nodded. ‘I know what you mean. Yes, I’d be happy to – that’s if you’re all right?’ She automatically glanced down towards his leg.
Frank bristled. He couldn’t bear to be thought of as anything other than the fully fit young man he had been until so recently. ‘Of course.’
‘I just meant, you must be tired if you’ve just come off duty,’ Gloria said hurriedly.
Frank nodded in acknowledgement. ‘Not so tired that I can’t walk. I can sleep later. Now I need to see what’s happened around here.’
As if in mutual understanding, they turned and began to head down towards the Mersey. For a while the devastation was so shocking they fell silent, just staring around them, taking it all in. The streets where they and their friends and families had strolled so often were utterly changed, many transformed into wasteland overnight. Every now and then Gloria gasped and pointed at one more familiar landmark now ruined. She swayed on her high heels.
‘Not the best choice of footwear,’ she said sadly. ‘I didn’t think of that when I packed – shoes for performing, yes. Shoes for picking my way through rubble, no. Forgot that.’
‘Bad planning,’ said Frank grimly, and gave a heartfelt sigh. ‘You’ve been in London, haven’t you? So what was it like down there?’
‘Oh, destruction follows me wherever I go,’ Gloria said lightly, not wanting to go into details of the overcrowded shelters and Tube platforms used whenever there was a raid on the capital. ‘I just keep on singing until they tell me to stop. Isn’t Kitty down there now? Nancy was saying she’d joined the Wrens and left them all behind.’
‘I believe so,’ said Frank shortly. ‘We don’t write.’
‘Oh.’ Gloria realised she’d touched on a sensitive topic, and hastily attempted to put things right. ‘Well, I’m sure she’s doing well. She’ll be safe, I should think; they wouldn’t put trainee Wrens in danger.’
‘I should hope not,’ said Frank, trying hard to keep his voice level and show no fear for Kitty’s safety. They were all exposed to risks, wherever they were – and, after all, she was nothing special to him, he told himself firmly. ‘Let’s turn down here, see if we can get through to the river. It looks as if there’s plenty of damage down here too.’
Gloria gasped inadvertently when she saw the devastation before them. The road had opened out and now they had a clear view looking along the waterfront, all the way down to the docks. She put her hand to her throat. ‘Oh Frank, I hope everyone is all right out in Bootle. Maybe I should try to get back to see Mam and Dad. It doesn’t look good that way, does it?’ She shivered in sudden fear.
Frank took hold of her arm. ‘Don’t think about it. There’s nothing you can do one way or the other. I considered going there as well, but we’d only be in the way. They’ll still be clearing up any damage, there won’t be any transport for the likes of us, and we’d be better off staying out of it. Sorry, that sounds harsh, but it’s true.’
Gloria gulped. ‘You’re right, of course. It would be selfish to put extra strain on the emergency services by adding to the crowd.’ She wobbled again on her high heels. ‘Sorry. I don’t know what came over me just then.’ She shook her hair in the breeze that was coming off the river. Then she pivoted around and pointed. ‘Look, Frank. Look up there.’
‘What?’ For a moment he couldn’t see what she meant. Then he followed the line of her index finger and the penny dropped.
Despite the devastation all around, there, on top of the Royal Liver Building, were the famous statues of the Liver Birds, standing guard over the city, undamaged and intact. Gloria tugged on his arm, and he could see there were tears in her eyes.
‘They’re still there, Frank. Somehow Hitler didn’t get them. They’re still there.’
Silently, he nodded.
‘It’s an omen, isn’t it?’ she said, staring in wonder. ‘I know it sounds stupid but I really feel it is. They are up there; it’s almost as if they are protecting us. It shows we won’t be beaten. Hitler can drop all the bombs he likes, but the people of Merseyside will come through. It’s a miracle how they haven’t been destroyed but they are still there.’
Frank blinked hard. It was miraculous that the graceful creatures hadn’t been toppled in the overwhelming force of the raid. Maybe Gloria was right. Part of him said it was superstitious nonsense, but the other part of him agreed wholeheartedly that these, the very symbol of the city, were a source of strength and hope for all who saw them.
‘We will come through,’ he assured her. ‘It’ll take more than nights of bombing to defeat us. One way or another, we will come through this.’