The English Wife. Adrienne Chinn

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       Chapter 1

       Liverpool – 5 February 1946

      The grey bulk of the RMS Mauritania sits like a warehouse alongside the Liverpool dock. Black smoke belches from its two large funnels. Ellie bounces Emmett, swaddled in a thick wool blanket and the garments she’d spent the winter knitting by the fireplace, and coos into his shell-like ear. He fixes her with his impassive blue/brown gaze. Such an odd little man with his one blue eye and his one brown eye, and the fine blond eyebrows he’d taken to arching when unimpressed. The ship melds with the lowering clouds and the rumbling sea, but, at least for now, the incessant rain has let up, though Ellie’s face is damp with the humid threat of an imminent deluge.

      ‘It would take a huge iceberg to sink that thing,’ Ellie’s sister, Dottie, says, blowing into her mitts. ‘There’s lots of icebergs around Newfoundland. I read about it in the library.’

      ‘Thanks, Dottie. You’re a harbinger of doom, as always.’

      Henry Burgess lifts his glasses and squints at the ship. ‘I shouldn’t worry, Ellie Mae. I’ve been reading about the Mauritania. She’s been doing runs all over the world since the war began. She’s a tough old thing.’

      Ellie scans the pier, crowded with thousands of young women, many with infants and toddlers, with faces as blank and terrified as her own. ‘There are so many of us.’ She looks at her father. ‘What are we all doing, Poppy?’ She bites down on her lip and blinks back the tears that salt her eyes. ‘I can’t even remember what Thomas looks like.’

      Henry lifts a gloved hand as if to pet Ellie’s arm, but hesitates and shoves it into his coat pocket. ‘I don’t expect he’s changed all that much.’

      ‘I never even knew about the prisoner exchange until I received the telegram from Canada. I still can’t believe he was in hospital in London for four months and I didn’t even know. He was too sick to get a message to me.’

      ‘Quite. But he’s recovered now, I understand. Didn’t you say he’s back fishing with his father?’

      ‘That’s what he said in his letter. In a place called Tippy’s Tickle on the north coast of Newfoundland. I couldn’t find it on the map in the school library.’

      Dottie shifts Ellie’s suitcase from one hand to the other with a grunt. ‘You’ll be off feasting on bananas and white bread instead of having to eat Woolton pie and that horrible National Loaf that everyone knows they put cinema sweepings into.’ Dottie pouts, her lips reddened with what Ellie suspects to be one of her stolen lipsticks. ‘You’ll forget all about me and Poppy once you’re over in Canada, just like you forgot about George.’

      ‘Don’t be ridiculous. You’re family, though I don’t know what happened to the lovely little girl you used to be. Hopefully, by the time I see you again, you’ll have matured.’

      ‘I’m mature. I’m sixteen. I’m not a child, Ellie. Just ask George.’

      ‘It’s not Canada, pet,’ Henry corrects Dottie. ‘It’s Newfoundland. Newfoundland is a British dominion, similar to Canada and Australia.’

      ‘What do you mean, just ask George?’

      The ship’s horn blows out an ear-splitting bellow. The crowd surges forward like a wave, knocking Ellie off balance. Henry grabs her arm. ‘You should be going, pet.’ He removes a ticket from his coat pocket and places it in her gloved hand. ‘I’ve paid a porter to take your trunk to your room. It’s first class, so you and Emmett should have some privacy.’

      Ellie’s eyes widen. ‘First class? Poppy! You didn’t have to do that. It’s far too dear.’

      ‘It’s the least I can do, pet.’ He tweaks Emmett’s chubby cheek. ‘Take care, Ellie Mae. He kisses her awkwardly on her cheek. ‘You know you can always come home if things …’ His voice catches and he clears his throat. ‘Right, Dottie, we’d best be off before it starts raining again. They’re threatening gales from Iceland and we’ve got a long journey home.’

      Dottie kisses the baby on his cheek. ‘Bye, little one.’ She holds out the suitcase. ‘Goodbye, Ellie.’

      ‘That’s no way to say goodbye, Dottie. I don’t know when I’ll see you again.’