Jean Grainger Box Set: So Much Owed, Shadow of a Century, Under Heaven's Shining Stars

by Jean Grainger

  ‘But I don’t understand. Belfast? Now? What on earth would she do up there, Solange?’

  Solange was patient. She spoke quietly and calmly. ‘I think she feels like she is trapped here, and she’s so young. She needs time away from everything to decide what it is she really wants from life, away from me and you and Mrs Canty and James, and all our opinions. It is normal, I think. When you were her age, you lived in another country, having new and interesting experiences. She should have the same.’

  Richard took a cigarette out of the case in his jacket pocket. Tapping it on the inlaid ivory box, a twenty-first birthday gift from Jeremy, he shook his head.

  ‘Ah Solange, you can’t be serious? New and interesting experiences? And who is going to supervise these new experiences? Would you tell me that? Who is going to keep her safe from harm? From making more daft decisions? Poor old Kitty is barely able to mind herself, let alone a headstrong madam like Juliet. She’d run rings around her, you must know that.’ His voice was pleading now.

  ‘So Richard, what is the alternative?’ Solange still spoke quietly, but there was an edge of steel. ‘This is 1939, Richard, not 1839. She’s had a difficult experience, but it’s made her grow up a lot. She would be fine, better than you think maybe. You will decide, of course, but if you want to have my advice then you must let her go. Just a little, bit by bit. If you do not, she will go anyway and maybe never come back. Is that what you want?’

  Richard sat beside the fire, gazing into the flames. He spoke without looking at her.

  ‘It was so much easier when they were small, wasn’t it? The only problems were a grazed knee or a battle over a toy. Now, I just don’t know, Solange, honest to God I don’t. I just want the best life possible for them and when I think of my beautiful Juliet up there, with randy young bucks roaming the streets and fast, loose girls painting their faces and shortening their skirts… It makes me shudder. I know I’m a dinosaur and you’re right, as usual. I can’t keep her prisoner, however much I want to. I suppose Kitty isn’t the worst option. And at least Juliet will be spared the martyred faces of the Daltons every time she puts her nose outside the door. A few weeks can’t do any harm, I suppose.’

  Solange felt a rush of sympathy for her old friend. Everything he did was because he loved his children, but he was terrified of letting them go.

  ‘She loves you and wants you to be proud of her. You have done a good job, Richard. They are fine young people, and you need to trust them now. Let them go, let them spread their wings and soar. They love you, and they will always come home, of this I am certain.’

  He smiled at her from his place by the fire. ‘We did a good job, Solange, both of us together. You more than me if we’re honest. I could never have managed on my own. I wish more than anything that Jeremy had not died, but you were his last gift to me. The way you took over when they were born and then, when…when Edith left… Well, you are their mother. Your blood may not flow through their veins, but they know, and I know, you are their mother. So, if you think letting her go up to Belfast will cheer her up then I’ll leave her to the train myself. And I’ll let her go with a cheery wave. And be sick with worry until she’s back under this roof.’ He added, only half-jokingly, ‘I suppose you have a master plan for James, as well. Is he off to Paris to wear an artist’s smock and live on crusts in a garret in Montmartre?’

  Solange was overcome with emotion. She knew Richard appreciated everything she had done, she didn’t want thanks, but that he acknowledged in words what Solange had always felt in her heart was enough. She was their mother, in every way but one. She knew he was joking about James – and it was hard to picture James in Paris, painting away to his heart’s content, living like a church mouse and separated from everyone at Dunderrig. Still, boys don’t pose the same worries for their fathers as girls, so though Richard would be equally reluctant to let him go, it wouldn’t be because he was frightened for his safety. The funny thing was, Solange knew that Juliet was better able to look after herself than her brother in many ways.

  Eventually, she found her voice. ‘No, no, nothing like that. In fact, he has not spoken to me about his plans at all. Has he asked you what he should do?’

  ‘Well, yes and no,’ Richard said. ‘He said he wants to leave university and from what he’s told me, I don’t think the medical faculty will be shedding any tears over him. I told him that he’d given it his best, and we said no more about it. I’ve even told him to give the art a go if he’s heart set on it. I don’t know the first thing about it. Sure, maybe he’ll make a fortune.’

  ‘I’m proud of you. That wasn’t easy. Like Juliet, I think maybe we just have to let him go, too. See where this passion for art takes him. And Richard, while we’re on the subject, have you noticed the distance between them this last while? That was never there before. James came to Juliet’s support today, but still there is something not quite right. Did you notice it?’

  Richard frowned. ‘I can’t say I did, but then I don’t notice things a lot of the time. You and Mrs Canty run this place so well, I just don’t open my eyes enough. What do you think it’s about? A row over something?’

  ‘I don’t know. There is definitely something wrong. Juliet told me that herself, but she also said she couldn’t say what it was. She did say that neither of them was in any kind of trouble, and that there was nothing for us to worry about. But I do worry, as you do – I can’t help it. He’s spending a lot of time in Dublin. I think there is maybe a girl there – perhaps Juliet doesn’t approve.’

  Richard was pensive. Solange knew so much more about his children than he did.

  ‘Yes, I did wonder what the attraction was with Dublin. Juliet went up with him a year or so ago – do you remember? When she was visiting some school friend. Did she say anything when they came back?’

  ‘Not to me, but I think it was after that trip that things changed between them. I thought maybe it was because James was interested in the school friend. Mary Sheridan, was it? Anyway, since then, he doesn’t even speak to me as he once did. I have asked him what is the matter, but he just says that he is fine. There is something though, I’m sure of it.’

  A comfortable silence fell between them. The wild summer thunderstorm raged outside. They heard the front door close and someone go upstairs. Danny must have gone.

  ‘Sure, poor lad, he’s young and he’ll find someone else. It’s as well for him she didn’t go through with it, even if he doesn’t realise it yet. Marriage is hard enough work even when both people love each other.’ Richard sighed, then said quietly, ‘Do you still miss him, Solange?’

  She thought about her answer for a moment.

  ‘Yes, but it was so long ago now. I loved him so much, but it was in another lifetime. I was different then, the world was different then.’ Solange’s voice was filled with sadness. ‘It is hard to imagine the world is about to be plunged into war again, so soon.’

  ‘Just so long as Dev keeps his word and makes sure we stay out of it. There’s a piece in the Southern Star this week, suggesting he’ll stay strong, but Churchill will really put on the pressure. He’ll just have to keep saying no, absolutely not, no matter what kind of blackmail they use. That’s the most important thing. Saying no to the heartless warlords who send innocent young people out to die terrible deaths, using calculating lies about honour and glory.’ His gaze met hers. ‘I just hope that when she’s up there in Belfast, she’s not drawn into anything. She’s so young and beautiful and so bloody innocent. I’m afraid for her, Solange.’

  ‘When they are little, you are right, it is so simple. But now, we must let her go and hope. That is all that we can do Richard. I wish, like you, to keep them here, in Dunderrig, but we cannot. We must release her and trust and hope and pray day and night that she remains safe. That is all that we can do, unfortunately. If you let her go now, with an open heart, she will always know she can come and go as she pleases. This way is better. Difficult as it is, it
is better.’

  ‘Thank you, Solange. Whatever would have become of us if you hadn’t come to Dunderrig? I just don’t know.’

  Chapter 20

  Juliet stared out the window of the red double-decker bus as it wound its way towards Donegall Square. The beauty of the city in the late autumnal sunshine delighted her. In fact, everything about this vibrant city filled her with excitement. Dunderrig and Danny and all that seemed a lifetime ago. She knew that old people like her Auntie Kitty dreaded another war, but amongst the young people here, there was a definite sense of anticipation. It was so frustrating that despite all the guff and bluster, as Mrs Canty would have put it, nothing of any significance had happened since Chamberlain made his statement telling the British people that they were at war, once again, with Germany. That was a month ago. The ‘Phoney War’ – as it was being called on the wireless that she and Auntie Kitty listened to each night before bed.

  Passing the red pillar boxes and the patriotic flags of the British Empire, it struck Juliet once again how strange it was to be in Ireland but to be at the same time in Britain. It felt very exotic and foreign, with their different money, and no Irish language written on any sign.

  She wished Solange and Daddy could see how independent and responsible she had become. She knew that the trip to Belfast was only to get her out of Dunderrig in the wake of the wedding that never was, but she was really enjoying the experience. Danny had written to say that he was taking Fionnula O’Regan to the dance in Skibbereen and he wanted her to hear it from him rather than from the village gossips. Juliet suspected the letter was more to let her know how quickly he had got over her than to spare her the shock of discovering that he had already fallen for another girl; still, he was entitled to regain some lost pride.

  Thank God, she was gone from Dunderrig before war had been declared. There would have been no way Daddy would have let her come afterwards. As it was, he was trying to get Kitty to send her home, but fortunately, her aunt was reluctant to let her go and had managed to convince Richard that his daughter was quite safe.

  Already two months had passed, and Juliet hoped to extend the stay indefinitely. She was determined not to do anything that might make Auntie Kitty feel like she was getting a bit wild or too used to city life. Instead, she worked on making herself indispensable. She sat in the garden with her aunt every morning, reading the paper aloud as Kitty’s eyes weren’t what they were. Each afternoon, she took off around the city on the bus, drinking it all in, but making sure to be home promptly at six for tea with her aunt. The only aspect of her new life that made her sad was the number of times during the day that she would turn to share something with James only to realise once again that he wasn’t there. Things had been better between them since the failed wedding, but the big issue of Edith still loomed over them.

  She wondered what her brother was doing now. James was so determined and stubborn he wouldn’t listen to reason where Edith was concerned. Every conversation they’d had about her had ended with a row, and in the end, they had made a mutual decision to avoid the subject. The thoughts of Edith pouring poison into her brother’s ear without anyone to offer balance bothered Juliet immensely, but there was nothing she could do. She couldn’t betray him by telling their father or Solange, even though she desperately wished she could so that Solange in particular could talk some sense into him. She had tried to write to him several times but every letter ended up in the wastepaper bin in her bedroom overlooking Alexandra Park.

  Belfast was full with servicemen and women waiting to be deployed to Europe whenever the war got going. Juliet was becoming good at spotting the different uniforms of the air force, navy, and the army. She couldn’t help but find the men in uniform attractive, and with this sense of anticipation all around, it felt like the normal rules of society could be relaxed. She regularly found herself being chatted up on the bus or in a queue by young men, who in civilian life and in civilian clothes would never have had the courage to be so forward.

  She really envied the girls in uniform, too. There was a group of them in digs near her aunt’s house that she’d struck up a conversation with one day on the bus. They looked so smart and brave in their uniforms, complete with ties like men, their hats jauntily pitched to one side. They told her they were Wrens and when she’d looked bewildered, they’d explained it stood for the Women’s Royal Naval Service. One of them, Maureen, was a cook in civilian life, but they were all training as wireless telegraphists, she told a fascinated Juliet. She longed to join them, but she knew if she even suggested it to her aunt, let alone her father or Solange, she’d find herself back in Dunderrig so fast her head would spin.

  ‘Is anyone sitting here?’

  Juliet looked up at the tall young man who was gesturing at the seat beside her.

  ‘No,’ Juliet answered brightly. ‘It’s free.’

  Sitting down beside her, he was pushed close to her as the bus took a corner rather too sharply.

  ‘Sorry about that.’ He was grinning, obviously not in the least bit sorry. ‘Since I’ve nearly sat on top of you, I’d better introduce myself. I’m Ewan McCrae.’ His blue eyes danced with mischief as he held out his hand for her to shake. A very definite Scottish accent with pale skin and very dark hair; he was a typical Celt.

  ‘Juliet Buckley, pleased to meet you,’ she smiled, shaking his hand.

  ‘Now then, Miss Juliet Buckley, that accent isn’t from around here, so what is a gorgeous girl like yourself doing so very far from home?’

  Juliet was flattered, but she heard her grandaunt’s voice in her head: Now Juliet, I want you to remember this. They’re all better looking in uniform, but war does funny things to men. It was exactly the same the last time, makes them forget the rules. It’s up to us ladies to keep everything under control.

  Auntie Kitty could never bring herself to be more explicit, but both she and her grandniece knew exactly what she was saying. Juliet was fairly sure that no men had untoward intentions towards the octogenarian Kitty, so it was clear her warning was intended for Juliet. Auntie Kitty was getting on in years, but she was no fool.

  ‘I’m visiting from Cork, staying with my aunt for a few weeks.’ She was friendly but not flirty. She didn’t want this Ewan McCrae getting the wrong impression.

  ‘Well, I’m a visitor here myself after a fashion,’ he replied laughing. ‘So how about we two tourists go for a cup of tea and discuss our findings on this lovely city?’

  Tempted as she was – he really was gorgeous looking – she thought it would seem too fast to agree to go out with him just like that.

  ‘Oh thank you, but I’m afraid I can’t. I have another engagement this afternoon.’ She hoped she didn’t sound haughty or rude. She would normally never use a word like engagement.

  ‘Well, that is a very great pity indeed because I am fascinating company, I can tell you, so you really don’t know what you’re missing. And I’m a perfect gentleman, ask anyone! My mother raised me to treat ladies with respect and not to bore them with men’s talk, but you seem to be a girl who’d like nothing better than an afternoon discussing the best way to tackle a brown trout!’

  Juliet pealed with laughter. Not just at what he had said but at his accent as well.

  ‘Well, Mr McCrae,’ she laughed, ‘I happen to know everything about “broon troot” as you call them because there is a trout stream behind our house and my brother and I perfected tickling when we were ten years old. So I’m afraid going for tea with you would be a total waste of my time and yours if that is the extent of your conversation.’

  The bus was pulling in at its final stop on Donegall Square as Juliet stood up. Ewan gestured that she should go ahead of him and she realised just how tall he was. At five feet five-and-a-half herself, she wasn’t tiny – but beside him, she felt as if she were.

  Out on the street, he walked alongside her.

  ‘Okay so, there is nothing I cannae tell you about trout tickling, nor
am I so crass as to mention any other kind of tickling in front of a lady such as yourself, but I do have some other really good topics I can discuss at great length. Unicycles, for example? Frog breeding? Hydrangeas? All areas of my expertise, I can assure you. My desire is simply to educate the world. The fact that you really are extraordinarily beautiful is entirely beside the point. Scout’s honour.’ He skipped alongside her as he was speaking.

  He was so funny. She stopped to face him. ‘That’s a boy scout uniform, is it?’

  ‘Might as well be for all the action I’ve seen so far,’ he grumbled good-naturedly. ‘Please come out with me? I’m going out of my mind with boredom, and I just love your accent and your hair and your eyes and your…’

  ‘All right, all right,’ Juliet sighed theatrically. ‘One cup of tea and a bun and you’re paying, then I’m off. I do have things to do, you know, but if you’re that bored, I can do it for the war effort I suppose.’

  Sitting in the window seat of a Lyons Tea Room ten minutes later, Juliet observed her new acquaintance as he waited in line for their tea. The RAF uniform fitted him well and now that he’d left his hat on the table, she could see that his dark hair was heavily Brylcreemed.

  He placed the teapot and two cups on the table. From his pocket, he removed a piece of paper in which were wrapped two buns. ‘So, Miss Juliet, can I be your Romeo?’