Pat could feel the colour flood her face. Did Goldstein know about her and William?
He went on, ‘You are a wonderful singer, but tonight you must prove what a brilliant actress you are. In your next song you must convince the audience of your passion. Passion, Patricia. Find it, please.’
She found him in the wings adjusting his bow tie. ‘William, I apologise. I was a little abrupt with you earlier and at the rehearsal.’
‘Please Pat, don’t apologise. I should have been more open with you.’
‘Don’t let’s talk about that. We need to focus on the performance. I’m sure we can make our next song something special.’
‘Of course we can. You will be Mimi, the love of my life.’
‘And you will be Rudolfo, the love of mine.’
‘And then later after the show, can we talk? I’d like to explain.’
‘No need to explain anything. Let’s just give our best performance yet.’
‘You’re very understanding.’
‘No I’m not. Look, let’s forget everything and sing with passion?’
‘Yes, Pat, passion sounds like a good idea.’
‘Are you two ready?’ asked Sammy. They nodded. ‘Right let’s give them some culture!’
With every expression, gesture, every note, Pat was Mimi singing of her new found love ‘O Soave Fanciulla’ and Rodolfo was at her side singing of his. Then suddenly his eyes flickered from her to the audience, his focus lost. Then she too sensed sound and movement in the auditorium, where seconds before there had been the stillness of concentration. William sang his response, but his eyes did not meet hers. Their voices blended together, the movement in the auditorium ceased and William turned to her again, but the spell was broken; the audience remembered they were not in a Parisian garret. Instead, they wondered what news had been brought to a government minister enjoying a concert that had made him leave in the middle of a performance.
Another member of the audience followed him out. The love expressed in Mimi’s voice for her Rudolfo had been too much for Jimmy McComb.
Pat maintained her composure and took her bow to warm applause, but once in the wings she turned on William. ‘How dare you! Where was your concentration? I’ve a good mind to—’
He put his arm around her waist, pulled her close and kissed her. ‘Sorry Pat, but I have to go.’ And he left the building still, according to Sheila, wearing Rudolfo’s tuxedo.
When the audience had left, Goldstein called for the cast to assemble on stage. ‘During the performance,’ he began, ‘a message arrived for the Minister informing him of a serious incident.’ He lowered his head a moment as if shaping his words. ‘The Irish Mail boat with three hundred passengers and crew on board en route from Liverpool to Belfast has struck a mine. The Minister left immediately, but before doing so he asked me to convey to you his enjoyment of your performances and his appreciation of what you are doing to maintain morale.’
*
The company left the building in sombre mood. Outside Irene linked Pat’s arm. ‘Aunt Anna and Thomas were due to come home tonight; you don’t think they could be on that boat, do you?’
‘I shouldn’t think so. They wouldn’t be on a mail boat, would they?’
‘No, I suppose not, the Wilsons are more likely to be crossing first class on the Queen Mary!’
‘Good show tonight, girls.’ Harry emerged from the shadows and fell into step beside Peggy. ‘Hello Peggy, thought you might like to come out for a bit of supper.’
‘Well, you know what thought did.’
‘No, tell me.’
‘Followed the binman and thought it was a wedding.’
He continued, undeterred. ‘Did I tell you I have this friend, runs a restaurant in Shaftsbury Square? We could be there in ten minutes.’ Harry went to put his arm around Peggy’s shoulders, but she ducked and stepped sideways. He smiled and pressed on. ‘Have you ever eaten brown trout from the Bann?’
No answer.
‘I’ll take that as a ‘No’ then.’ He caught her hand and held it firmly. ‘In which case, you’ve a real treat in store.’ Harry stopped at a black Ford Prefect parked at the side of the road. ‘Your carriage awaits.’ He gave a mock bow.
‘What about the others?’
‘I’ve booked a table for two.’
Peggy hesitated.
Harry pressed on. ‘Candles, soft music …’
‘Wait here,’ said Peggy and ran to catch her sisters who had almost disappeared into the blackout.
*
The restaurant was tiny, just six tables covered with red and white gingham tablecloths; green wine bottles, encrusted with rivulets of melted wax, held an inch or two of burning candle. There were French posters on the walls. Harry’s friend, dressed in his chef’s whites, came out from the kitchen to meet them.
‘What about ye, Harry?’
‘Not three bad, Rodney.’ They shook hands.
‘And this is Peggy is it?’ He kissed her cheek. Her eyes widened in surprise. She’d seen men kiss women they’d never met like that in films, but in real life …?
‘The meal’s nearly ready. The waitress’ll bring you an aperitif while you wait.’
Peggy leaned across the table and whispered, ‘He has our meal nearly ready? How did you know I would come?’
‘I knew.’
The drinks arrived. ‘It tastes of aniseed balls!’ laughed Peggy.
‘It’s the height of sophistication in Paris.’
‘They drink this in Paris?’
‘So I’m told.’
‘Have you ever been there?’
‘No,’ said Harry, ‘but I will someday.’
‘I’ve never been anywhere.’
‘Not even over the border?’
‘No.’
‘Tell you what, I might be going over to Dundalk next week. You could come with me, if you like.’
‘Maybe I will.’
The food was delicious. The trout had crisp brown skin sprinkled with almonds.
‘The potato has a strange flavour,’ said Peggy.
‘It’s the garlic.’
‘I’m not sure I like it.’ She tasted a little more.
‘Oh, you have to eat it, we both do.’
‘Why?’
‘Because then, when I kiss you won’t taste it on my lips.’
When the wine arrived, Harry explained that one glass with her meal sipped slowly would have no affect on her, but by the time the dessert was served, her head was light. Rodney made a fuss of her as they left, kissing her on both cheeks this time. ‘Come back again soon, Peggy,’ he said. He shook Harry’s hand and passed him a small package. ‘See you next week.’
Peggy felt a little strange walking to the car and was glad to feel Harry’s arm around her. ‘What time is it?’ she asked.
‘Not too late. I thought we could go for a bit of a spin. What do you think?’
Peggy leaned her head against his shoulder. What did she think? She thought it was the most exciting night of her life and who would know if she was a bit late home?
They crossed the Lagan and headed east along the south shore of the Lough. Harry talked and she listened. The car was warm and the sound of the engine soothing. Sometimes she drifted into sleep, then back again to the sound of his voice …his childhood … school … learning to bake … how yeast worked … the first day he saw her at the City Hall … The miles slipped away … the moon crossed the sky.
She awoke to the sound of the sea, not a gentle lapping but the crashing of waves against a harbour wall. He reached across and took her carefully in his arms. She watched his eyes, saw them close, hers did the same then his lips were on hers and she knew beyond doubt that what she had experienced tonight was what she wanted for ever.
*
Martha didn’t wake with a slow realisation that it was morning. She went from oblivion to full awareness that something terrible had happened and she must begin to deal with it immediately. The clock on th
e mantelpiece said half past five. The last news before she fell asleep confirmed the sinking of the mail ship and reported a major rescue operation was underway. She remembered reports, after the sinking of the Titanic nearly thirty years before, concerning the panic over the lifeboats: some severely overloaded; others half empty; lost souls floundering in icy water. She splashed cold water on her face and went to wake the girls.
‘Are they home yet?’ asked Alice sleepily.
‘Have they brought our presents?’
‘No.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because your Daddy has lots of business to see to and he might not have got it all finished.’
‘But you said—’
‘It was in the note they left—’
‘I know, I know,’ said Martha, ‘but, guess what? I’ve got a surprise for you.’
‘What is it? What is it?’ Evelyn was easily distracted.
‘I’m taking you to my house so you can play with Sheila. You’d like that wouldn’t you?’
‘I want to stay here and wait for Mummy and Daddy.’ Alice folded her arms and pouted. ‘They might come home and wonder where we are.’
‘That’s all right,’ Martha assured her. ‘We’ll leave them a note saying you’re at my house, so your Daddy can come and collect you.’
*
Harry and Peggy sat on the sea wall buffeted by the sharp salty wind and watched the dawn break. They didn’t speak, but once in a while he would lower his head to kiss her. Soon it was time to follow the daylight back into the city. He held her hand as she walked the sea wall like a child on a Sunday school outing and, when they came to the road again, he reached up, swung her in the air and set her on solid ground. The car, so warm when they left it, was freezing with ice inside the windows and they drove the best part of three miles before it began to warm a little and Harry broke the silence.
‘What will you say when you get home?’
‘I’ve no idea.’
‘Your mother—’
‘She won’t be there. She’s at her sisters. What about you?’
‘Oh they’re used to me coming and going on different shifts. Are you in work this morning?’
‘Supposed to be, but you’ll need to take me home to get washed and changed.’ She imagined the reaction she’d get from her sisters when they realised she’d been out all night with Harry. Well, let them think what they like, she didn’t care.
*
Irene was already dressed in trousers and turban eating her breakfast, when her mother walked in with Alice and Evelyn behind her. ‘What is it, Mammy? Has something—’
Martha shook her head in warning. ‘Away upstairs would you, Irene, and tell Sheila to come down quickly.’ Then she turned to the girls, ‘Now then you two, shall we have some nice tea and toast to warm us up?’
‘Wake up, Sheila. Wake up!’
‘What is it?’
‘Mammy’s downstairs with Alice and Evelyn. She wants you to come down.’
Sheila sat up in fright. ‘Is it about Anna and Thomas? Were they on that boat?’
‘I don’t know. Look, if you come down now and mind the children, I’ll find out from Mammy what’s going on. She won’t talk in front of them.’ She turned to go. ‘Where’s Peggy?’
Sheila stared at her sister’s bed which clearly hadn’t been slept in. ‘She never came home?’
‘We can’t deal with that now,’ said Irene. ‘We’ll just have to stop Mammy coming in here. Look …’ She pushed a pillow into the bed and ruffled the covers over it. ‘If necessary we’ll say she’s sick.’
‘That’ll never work.’
‘Well, can you think of anything better? No, so let’s go and find out what’s going on.’
While Sheila sat with the children in the kitchen, Martha slipped into the sitting room with Irene. ‘Did you hear about the boat that hit a mine last night?’ Irene nodded. Martha went on, ‘Anna and Thomas were on it as far as I know. There’s talk on the wireless of survivors.’
‘What should we do?’
‘I’m going down to the docks. Somebody there will know what’s going on. There might even be some survivors brought in, who knows?’
‘What can I do?’ asked Irene.
‘The best thing is for you, Pat and Peggy to go to work as normal. That way I’ll know where you are if I need you.’ Martha paused. ‘Shouldn’t those two be up already?’
Irene didn’t hesitate. ‘Pat’s getting ready, but Peggy’s having a lie in. Goldstein said she didn’t have to go in until ten.’
‘I’m going to go now,’ said Martha. ‘I can’t sit around waiting for news. Sheila will be fine with the girls, won’t she?’
‘Aye, course she will. You and I could go down town together. I’ll leave you at the bridge and walk over to work.’
‘Great, get your coat on then.’ Martha followed Irene into the hall.
‘Where are you going?’ Irene asked as calmly as she could.
‘I’ll tell Pat and Peggy what’s happening.’
‘I’ll do that,’ said Irene over her shoulder. ‘You tell Sheila.’
*
There wasn’t much on the roads and Peggy and Harry made good time back into the city. As they rounded Cliftonville Circus, Harry asked, ‘Will anyone be up at this time?’
‘Irene maybe, but she sleeps with Pat so she won’t know I’m not there. I share a room with Sheila and she won’t be awake for ages yet, so I’ll be able to sneak in I think.’
‘Peggy, I don’t want to worry you, but isn’t that your mother and Irene walking down the road towards us?’
‘It is! It is!’ Peggy shrieked.
‘Get down!’ Harry’s arm shot out, caught the back of her head and pushed her down in the seat. At the same time he turned his head to the side.
‘You know Irene, that looked a bit like Harry Ferguson in that car that just went past.’
Irene stared at the black Ford Prefect as it disappeared up the Oldpark Road.
‘Ach I don’t think so, Mammy. Sure doesn’t he have a sports car?’
Chapter 16
The fog that had blown in off the sea in the middle of the night lingered like bad news around the docks. Martha was uncertain where to start her search, but close to Donegall Quay she saw a crowd of people hurrying towards the harbour building. ‘Are you here about the mail boat?’ she asked a woman.
‘Aye, I’ve a son coming back from England on it. First they said conditions were bad, but now there’s word of lifeboats being found and a few minutes ago we heard survivors were being brought ashore.’
A man in a naval style uniform covered in gold braid appeared on the steps of the grey porticoed building and waited for quiet.
‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ an English accent, ‘some survivors from the mail ship which collided with a mine—’
‘Makes it sound like it’s their fault!’ shouted someone.
‘—off the coast of the Isle of Man last evening, have been brought ashore and are now being cared for in the immigration hall at the back of the building. If you would please form an orderly queue we will take the name of the passengers about whom you are enquiring and we will confirm whether they have, as yet, come ashore.’
‘They’re round the back!’ someone shouted. ‘What are we waitin’ for?’ People began to run, but Martha knew a quick walk would do well enough for, whether joy or heartbreak awaited them, running would not make a ha’porth of difference to the outcome.
At the rear of the building those at the front of the crowd stopped suddenly and fell silent as they passed into the hall. Over their heads, Martha could just make out a dimly lit space and, coming from within it, the high-pitched scream of a baby and the stench of dirty water.
They filed in as silent as into church. Those at the back, like Martha, could not at first see what lay in front of them. She moved to one side and round a pillar and almost stumbled over a young woman leaning against it, a puddle of water surrounding her. Her eyes
were wide and staring, her face grey. A child of four or five lay across her legs face down, vomit trickling from his mouth. Beyond her sat an elderly man in his shirt sleeves clutching a grip bag with trembling hands, then a girl hugging her knees head bent, hair in rats’ tails dripping down her back. On and on … some standing, some sitting, most lying, all with faces grey from fear and the seawater in their stomachs. All drying slowly in the chill of the February morning.
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