‘I agree. But leave the other news, please, a little longer,’ she said. ‘Well, I’d better unwrap the fish and chips – that was a good idea of yours, as it’s a bit late to start cooking now. It seems strange without Mum here, but.…’ Carmen had moved into Ramon’s spare room the previous day.
‘We are better on our own,’ he finished for her.
‘At least we know where she is and what she’s up to. The situation in Spain is grave now.’
Henry smiled. He wasn’t so sure about that, but wouldn’t say anything.
In the kitchen, May put their supper plates into the oven to make sure the food would be hot. She closed the oven door, remarking, ‘It won’t take long.’ As she straightened up, he came up behind her and gently fingered her hair aside, before he kissed the nape of her neck. ‘I love you so much, May,’ he murmured.
‘That was nice.’ May was unsure how to react.
‘I’ll shift your things later back into your old room,’ he offered.
‘Thank you, Henry, that’s good of you. Will you lay the table now please, and don’t forget the vinegar and the tomato sauce.’
May felt the need of an early night. When she went upstairs she found that Henry had not only transferred her belongings to the big bedroom, but that he had changed the bed linen and turned back the corner of the sheet for her to climb straight in. He had obviously retreated to his own room while she was in the bathroom. She undressed quickly and sank thankfully into bed, glad of the clean, cotton sheets.
A tap of the door. Henry opened it and called ‘Goodnight.’ He, too, was ready for bed, in his pyjamas, decently covered with his old dressing-gown.
‘Come in, Henry,’ she invited. ‘I want to tell you how pleased I am with my lovely ring. Look, I still have it on! I won’t let you down and change my mind on Saturday. How could I, after what you said when you kissed me tonight?’
‘I meant it.’ He came over to the bed. ‘Can we talk?’
She yawned. ‘I thought we had. I promised you—’
‘I won’t hold you to it. The ring … well, we’re not really engaged; we’re both pretending to ourselves that it makes a difference. It’s time to be open with each other, for you to tell Pomona and Bea, for me to inform my family of your predicament, because they think of you as one of us, and will support you, as I still intend to do. You must talk to Paddy, and you can’t do that with me around, so I won’t be coming with you to the museum. His family, when they know, will, I’m sure, be there for you too, whatever the outcome between you and their son.’
‘They were so kind to Pom and me, all those years ago – they sort of adopted us into their family, just as yours did, later.’
‘You and the O’Flahertys have a common background. At heart you’ll always be the Punch and Judy lady, May. It’s a part of you in which I can never share. Before all this happened, I was considering following in my father’s footsteps, as you once did with Jim. I wish I had met him. Can you see yourself as a clergy wife?’
‘I don’t know,’ she admitted.
‘May, be honest with yourself. When you met Paddy again, you knew, didn’t you, that you still had strong feelings for him? What happened then was inevitable. May I look at the ring? You didn’t really give me a chance to do so, earlier.’
She stretched her hands out to him. Carefully, he slid the ring off her finger. ‘It’s very pretty, but it’s a friendship ring, not an engagement ring. Wear it on your other hand … and think of me.’
‘That’s a promise I can keep,’ she said softly.
Thirty-Two
May, 1936
SATURDAY DAWNED, DAMP and cold. The garden was rimed with frost. May decided to wear her fawn mackintosh, unbelted, over her skirt and blouse. She tied a kerchief over her hair, turned her collar up, and carried her umbrella. She thought: I look drab, and I’m almost twenty-seven. I’m far removed from Young May Moon and even from the attractive girl in the peacock-blue dress. Was that really only three months ago?
‘You can always bring them back here you know,’ Henry said. ‘I can make myself scarce. Are you sure you don’t want me to run you into London in the car?’
‘Thanks, but I’m used to the train now.’
‘I hope all goes well.’
‘I think it will: I shall follow your advice.’
Paddy was waiting outside the museum, with his hands in his pockets and rain dripping off his hair on to his collar. The wind whipped a discarded scrap of torn paper along the pavement, which clung to his trouser leg. He bent to brush it off and when he straightened up, she was standing there, shaking her umbrella before closing it. He didn’t appear to recognize her immediately.
‘Sorry if I’m late,’ she said breathlessly.
‘You aren’t – I was early. Shall we go inside? It’s perishing out here, no-one would think it was May.’
Does he mean, he didn’t realize it was me – May? she wondered, asking belatedly: ‘Where’s Cluny?’
‘She came out yesterday in some blisters, which Mum says is chickenpox. She insisted I should meet you as arranged, and I’ve promised Cluny we’ll go round the museum and buy some postcards, so she can see what she’s missed.’
May wasn’t sure whether she was relieved or not that Cluny had been unable to come, but it would be easier to talk later, she thought.
He took her arm, guided her up the steps. He said in her ear, ‘I had a shock when I looked up and saw you. Why on earth didn’t you tell me, May?’ The flapping mackintosh had revealed her secret.
‘We can’t talk about it now, not here.’ I should have been aware he would guess I was pregnant, she thought; after all, it’s happened to him before.
The gigantic mammoth skeleton was amazing. ‘I think Cluny might well have been overawed by it,’ Paddy observed. ‘She became interested in dinosaurs when she looked at a couple of my old books. Dad told her a lot about them; he’s immersed in ancient history.’
They went from gallery to gallery, where the displays amazed them both. ‘The dodo! What a pity it is extinct.’ May stumbled, and his arm went firmly round her shoulders, supporting her. ‘You’ve had enough, I can tell. Let’s buy the cards, then find somewhere to eat.’
‘I want to choose a birthday gift for Cluny, too,’ she said, ‘but I have to sit down first, I … feel faint. I’m sorry.’
‘It’s me who should apologize. I had no idea, and I should have had. It’s all my fault, and I feel awful about it.’
‘Don’t. It was – just as much me as you.’
After she had chosen a mug with an illustration of the museum building, for Cluny, a chair was provided for May to rest upon, while Paddy selected a batch of cards for his daughter. ‘The mammoth doesn’t look so formidable cut down to size.’
She looked around her and upwards at the vaulted ceiling. ‘What a wonderful place this is. You must bring Cluny here later; she’ll love it.’
‘If you say you’ll come too. I’m glad you took to each other.’
‘Little Dog Toby helped, in that respect!’
Later, they sat in a crowded café at a small table for two in a corner. They ordered soup and rolls. ‘Not quite what I had in mind,’ Paddy said, ‘but it was far enough for you to walk. I didn’t come by car. Cluny was looking forward to travelling on the train, and I’d booked our seats.
‘Everything other than the soup seems to smell of onion and be swimming in grease. This, at least is hot and the rolls are fresh. Eat up, then we’ll choose our dessert. What would you like to drink?’
‘Tea, I think. Not yet though – I don’t fancy coffee.’
‘May, why didn’t you tell me?’
‘I – I thought you’d feel you had to marry me. I believed you regretted what happened, because we hadn’t had time to get to know each other properly again. I though that you didn’t want to rush into another relationship because of Cluny.’
‘I’m ashamed to admit I got cold feet,’ he told her humbly. ‘I’ve regretted let
ting you go ever since, hence the invitation today. I thought you’d come because of Cluny, not me. I can remember you ignoring me when we first met, because you considered I was brash. Mum said we were made for each other, and that this time I mustn’t let you go.’
‘Dear Brigid.’ Her voice was husky. She cleared her throat. ‘But you didn’t expect this, did you? Nothing has changed, has it, with your situation? I know you can’t afford to set up home on your own, especially with Cluny to consider. You mustn’t unsettle her.’
‘I suppose I was hoping for a proper courtship and, in time, earning enough to become independent. The depression seems at last to be lifting, but what with the unrest here, civil wars in countries like Spain, and the threat of Nazi Germany, another world war seems inevitable. Will small businesses like mine be viable then?’
‘I wish we could go back to West Wick. It was an unexpectedly good summer, after the sadness of losing my father. It was when I grew up, I suppose.’
‘And fell in love with me, as I did with you.’
She took a spoonful of vanilla ice cream. He’d already finished his spotted dick pudding and custard. ‘This is nice.’ She came to a sudden decision. ‘I don’t think either of us wants a hasty marriage, Paddy. Courtship sounds good to me. I can stay on at work, and live at Henry’s until I have to give up, when the baby is due. I will save all I can from my wages, and you can concentrate on building up your business. We’ll keep in close touch, and I shall need you by my side in November. Then, we can be married. What d’you think?’
‘If you think it will work … then I agree.’ His relief at her decision was palpable. ‘May, I have to catch the train back at five o’clock. There’s not much point going to a park in the rain. How about seeing a film?’ He grinned and she was reminded of the young Paddy. ‘We can have a crafty cuddle in the dark,’ he added.
‘As long as you don’t squeeze me too tight.’ She looked ruefully at her slight bulge.
Henry didn’t question her on her return home. He waited until she was ready to talk.
‘We’re going to be married, Henry, but not yet. I hope I can stay on here with you, work with Tatiana, and get to know my mother better.
‘He is pleased about the baby, I think, although he didn’t actually say, but he wants us to be together, when the time is right.’
‘It must have been a shock to him,’ Henry said charitably. ‘Of course you can stay on here, I’ve become accustomed to the company. No strings attached, I assure you. I rang my mother, by the way.’
‘I hope she wasn’t too shocked!’
‘My dear, she wants to help all she can. They all send their love and best wishes. Perhaps, tomorrow, you will feel like contacting Bea?’
‘It’s a relief to have this out in the open. I hope Paddy’s family will feel the same.’
‘I’m sure they will. Oh, Carmen rang. She said she wanted to talk to you. I told her where you were.’
‘I hope nothing’s wrong. She was pleased about her move.’
Ramon, that dapper dancer with snake hips and good looks, was fourteen years younger than Carmen, but he knew how to flatter a mature woman. Carmen had been bowled over instantly by his charm. She had certainly not taken in the fact that, while he flattered the female pupils, he was more interested in their male partners.
The room she now occupied was up a flight of stairs; it was small, under the eaves and rather airless. He advised her that she should not open the window because of the noise from the traffic outside. There was a list of rules taped to the wall.
USE OF THE KITCHEN PERMITTED ONLY BY ARRANGEMENT, ONE HOUR a.m. and ONE HOUR p.m.
OBSERVE ROTA FOR BATHS.
CLOTHES AND LINEN TO LAUNDRY.
OTHER ROOMS STRICTLY PRIVATE.
DAILY SWEEPING OF STAIRS REQUIRED.
To one who had never concerned herself with housework, let alone sweeping stairs, this was outrageous. She soon became aware of why the rest of the flat was out of bounds; because Ramon invited his friends home after he had finished his stint at the dance studio.
Carmen decided to return to Henry’s house, where she could bath as often as she liked and cook what she fancied in the kitchen. Henry or May were always on hand to deal with the washing up.
‘Henry,’ May said apologetically, ‘Mum wants to come back.’
‘Perhaps it’s a good thing. We could be, with our unusual set-up, the subject of unwelcome gossip. Carmen would soon put a stop to that, I think! I imagine you said she can return here?’
‘I wouldn’t presume to do that without asking you first. I did say that now she’s working she would be able to contribute to the household expenses. I feel we should do the same when Pom is here.’
‘That’s a different matter,’ he said immediately. ‘She needs a home base, and I am happy for this to be it. When would Carmen hope to move back?’
‘She’ll give a week’s notice, she says. I have to ring her back.’
He smiled. ‘Shall we draw up our own set of rules, eh?’
‘Oh Henry, you’re far too tolerant for that!’
There was a shoal of letters the following week for May, all pledging their support. May felt so much happier now that her two families, as she thought of the O’Flahertys and the Wrights, were behind her.
It would soon be her birthday, and she was invited to spend it with Paddy and his family. ‘Cluny will be over the chickenpox by then,’ Brigid wrote. ‘We can’t wait to see you again!’
Thirty-Three
‘NOT MUCH USE bolting the stable door,’ Brigid remarked, as she showed May into Paddy’s room. ‘You two need some quiet time to find out more about each other, that’s what Brendan said. Anyway, we already think of you as our daughter-in-law, and Cluny is just as excited as we are about the baby … We’ll sing Happy Birthday to You, dear Young May Moon tomorrow. Cluny and I have baked you a cake! Welcome to the family.’
‘Oh, I’d love to hear you singing again, I have such happy memories of that,’ May said.
She noted with relief that the two single beds were set apart by a chest of drawers. Of course, this was the room Paddy shared with his brother when he came home.
Brigid patted her arm: ‘Paddy doesn’t want to rush things either. But you could always push the beds together. You must be tired after the journey – take the bed by the window, pull the curtains across and have a rest before dinner at half past six. You’ll be undisturbed until then. Paddy promised to take Cluny out with the dog.’
May removed her shoes, blouse and skirt and lay under the coverlet on top of the bed. She thought, I’ll wear something more comfortable this evening, that skirt is becoming too tight. Tatiana’s artists’ smocks were specially made for her by a local seamstress, and she’d kindly ordered a couple of these roomy frocks for May. The material was serviceable cotton, one in pale blue, one in green, with two buttons at the neck and loose three-quarter-length sleeves. May had embroidered a daisy-chain along the yoke seams, white looped petals with yellow French knot centres. This livened up what was essentially a workaday garment.
There was a jug of flowers on her side of the chest, which included large white daisies. Brigid, pausing by the door, said: ‘Cluny picked those for you.’
May didn’t expect to go to sleep, but she did. She awoke to a strange sensation, a fluttering in her abdomen. Then she realized that the baby was making its first discernible movements. She placed her hands on the spot where the upheaval had occurred. There it was again … she was trembling with excitement. She looked up and saw Paddy sitting on the other bed, regarding her with a pensive look.
‘You looked so peaceful, I didn’t want to wake you up, but Mum said to tell you the meal will be on the table in ten minutes.’ He rose. ‘I’ll see you downstairs, eh?’
May sat up. ‘Paddy – wait a moment, I’ve something exciting to tell you. The baby just kicked for the first time! Oh, there it goes again!’
‘Can I feel it, too?’ he asked diffidently. He m
oved towards her.
She nodded. ‘Hurry, before it stops!’ His warm hand covered hers and through the rayon petticoat she was wearing, they shared the special moment. Paddy gave her a quick kiss on the top of her head. ‘Thank you for sharing that with me,’ he said.
‘I know it was a shock when you found out about the baby, but you’re happy about it now, aren’t you?’
‘I can honestly say that I am. Well, get dressed, let your hair down, and I’ll tell Mum she can dish up!’
It was a birthday that May would never forget. It began after breakfast on Sunday morning, when she opened her presents from the family. Grandpa had carved her a perfect apple from walnut, complete with stalk and curled leaf, which sat by her plate; Brigid and Brendan gave her a record, and she was thrilled to see it was labelled: Young May Moon, a popular tune. ‘We’ll wind up the gramophone later,’ they promised.
Cluny said: ‘I picked you the flowers and iced the cake.’ Then Paddy felt in his pocket and produced a little polished heart-shaped box that he had made in the workshop. He’d lined it with a scrap of red velvet over a raised pad. ‘It’s for a ring, but I want you to choose that.’ May glanced at the friendship ring on her right hand, given her by Henry, which Paddy hadn’t commented on. There would be more presents to open when she arrived home; it wouldn’t have been tactful to bring them with her. The O’Flahertys’ modest gifts were all she wished for today.
Cluny had chosen the birthday tea menu, which included wobbling orange and green jellies, pineapple chunks, tinned salmon sandwiches, shortbread, cheesy scones and a chocolate cake with icing smothered in hundreds-and-thousands, plus a fingerprint or two bestowed by an enthusiastic small chef.
After a slice of the cake Cluny was whisked away to wash her face and hands by her grandma. Brendan cleared the table, Grandpa offered to help wash up, Toby cleared up the crumbs under the table, while May and Paddy were told to retire to the sitting room to await the entertainment.
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