Voices on the Wind - Assault

Rosemary lived with her parents in Birkenhead, and they had no telephone in the house. To reach her when she was off work, Stevie had to call the pub at the corner and ask them to send someone to fetch her.

While he paced impatiently back and forth, puffing his pipe and annoyed by every caller that blocked the phonelines, he imagined the call he was about to make. She’d be breathless from running to the pub and the first thing she’d ask was, “Stevie? Are you really here? How soon can we meet and where?” She said that every time he rang her — even when he’d only been out of Liverpool on a short coastal jaunt. He also imagined her saying, “Oh, Stevie, I don’t care about going somewhere tonight, let’s just —” But that was wishful thinking. It had long been a point of tension between them that she liked getting dressed up and going out, while he just wanted to be alone with her.

Pacing the worn quay in the drizzling rain waiting for her to call back, Stevie resolved to repress his exhaustion and focus on making her happy. If he took the initiative to suggest going out tonight, maybe that would help smooth over their differences? He could suggest something special. Maybe the Grafton Rooms? The sheer size of the place would impress her, the mirrors on the walls would enchant her, and the strict dress code would make her feel special. Yes, dancing at the Grafton Rooms was the thing, he concluded, pleased that he could even think about dancing after this trip, but —

The telephone rang with an incoming call. Breathlessly, he grabbed the receiver and asked eagerly, “Rosemary? Is that you?”

“Stevie?”

Thank God! It was Rosemary. “Yes, it’s me. We arrived this morning and—”

“I thought you said you wouldn’t be back until the end of the month?” She sounded more annoyed than excited, and her tone flummoxed him.

“I — I didn’t want you looking for me too soon,” he stammered. “I thought you’d only be disappointed, but I’m here now! Look, we could go dancing at the Grafton Rooms —”

“Not so fast, Stevie,” Rosemary quashed his enthusiasm firmly. “I can’t get away tonight. I’ve made other plans.”

It was like being clobbered by deck tackle. It had never occurred to him she might be busy. She never had been before. “But can’t you — I mean — Isn’t it something you could postpone?”

“No. How long are you in for this time?”

“A month. I was thinking maybe we could get away alone together for a couple of days…” He was shamelessly taking advantage of Colin’s good nature by assuming this, but Rosemary’s initial reaction had panicked him. She sounded so tiffed, he simply had to spend enough time with her alone to set things right.

“Oooh! That’s a nice change!” Her voice brightened noticeably, and he let out a sigh of relief. Then she added, “But if we’ve got a few weeks, then tonight’s not important, is it? Ring me at the canteen tomorrow, and we can make plans. I’ve got to go now! Ta-ra!” She hung up very abruptly, leaving him dazed in the phone box.

Not only had she brushed him off, she’d hung up on him as well. Of course, she’d been using a public phone. Her coins had probably been about to run out. Yet, even as he rationalised her abruptness, the call left him empty and confused. She had something she wanted to do more than she wanted to be with him. Maybe she was punishing him for not taking her to meet his parents? Or had she lost interest in him altogether? Found someone else?

All Stevie’s insecurities returned to assault him. He’d suffered from severe acne as a youth. At that critical age when one discovered an interest in the opposite sex, girls hadn’t wanted to be seen with him. That was one, unspoken reason why he’d gone to the Thames Nautical Training College at 16. Yes, he’d always been fascinated by sea stories and mad about sailing, but training on TS Worcester followed by joining a large shipping company as a sea-going cadet enabled him to remain in the all-male environment familiar from school.

Once he went to sea, it had been easy to joke about ‘a woman in every port’ since no one at home could know if he was lying or not. Besides there were girls in foreign ports who cared more about the face on your money than the face on your body. Eventually, he’d matured enough to have a full beard that covered most of the scars. The uniform of a Merchant Navy officer was an asset, too. He’d found Rosemary. She’d smiled at him, kissed him and made love to him. She made him feel special and exciting and virile. Except, that wasn’t the way he was feeling right now.

A RN sailor was knocking on the outside of the phone box. “Are you all right, sir?” He asked politely as Stevie pushed open the door.

“Yes, fine,” he answered curtly. The rating darted inside the box to place his own call, and Stevie headed back to the ship. He went straight to the saloon for a drink. Unsurprisingly, he found the Richardson settled in one of the old leather chairs snoozing over a book. He started out of his doze and covered his embarrassment with mock indignation, “You have no business sneaking up on an old man like that, laddie! I thought I’d gotten rid of you.”

“She had other plans for tonight. Maybe tomorrow.” Stevie made no effort to disguise his discouragement.

Colin responded with a sensible, “You need a drink and I’ll keep you company.” Putting his book aside, he joined Stevie at the drinks cabinet.