Kirsty’s head drooped. ‘That’s all right for you to say,’ she muttered. ‘You don’t come from an ordinary council house . . . I bet you live in a big fancy house like all those people.’
‘You don’t know a thing about my background,’ he said quietly. ‘And what kind of houses either of us have come from has absolutely nothing to do with it. The people at the dance won’t care where you come from – they’ll only be interested in your singing voice and having a dance and a bit of craic for the night.’
Then Kirsty lifted her chin and a defiant look came into her eyes. ‘Not that I’m ashamed of where I come from or my family. Our house is spotlessly clean and we’ve nice furniture and everything. It’s just that I know the types of people there will be all uppity and full of themselves – and I hate the way people like that make me feel. I’ve one or two that come into the chemist’s and they talk to you as if you’re beneath them.’
‘Kirsty . . . Kirsty,’ Larry said in a low whisper, taking her hand into both of his. ‘You’ll be grand, I promise you – you’ll be absolutely grand. You’re the best little singer I have on my books.’
There was a truce-like silence for a few moments, during which she became acutely conscious that he was still holding her hand. She wondered whether she should ease her hand out of his, then she wondered if he was even aware that he was still holding it. He smiled at her now, gave her hand a reassuring squeeze and then gently let it go.
‘What,’ she asked now, in a resigned, wavery voice, ‘would I have to wear for this “do”’? I don’t know if I’ve anything suitable. I couldn’t ask my mother to start making me an outfit at this late stage, she’s up to her eyes in sewing for Christmas.’ She stopped. ‘You see, I was going to wait until the January sales to go into Glasgow – to the big shops and buy a few really fancy dresses for the stage.’
‘Let me sort that out,’ Larry said to her. ‘I’m sure I can put my hand on some very nice dresses in your size that would be suitable.’ Then, seeing the surprised look on her face, he smiled. ‘Contacts, Kirsty – in this business it’s all about contacts.’ He looked at his watch and, realising the time, he finished his brandy in one gulp and pushed his chair back.
Kirsty stood up too. ‘I’m beginning to wonder if it would have been easier staying with The Hi-Tones,’ she said ruefully.
‘Nothing ventured, Kirsty,’ Larry Delaney said, smiling and wagging his finger. ‘Take my word for it – you were meant for much bigger things than The Hi-Tones.’
Chapter 25
The hospital was the usual hive of activity for the evening visiting. ‘It’s a crisp enough night,’ Mona said, running her hand along a white radiator as they walked along the corridor to Lily’s ward, ‘but it’s nice coming into the heat. They keep the hospital lovely and warm – although in the summer they say that it can be far too warm, that they keep it on all night for the older patients.’
No one responded to her observations, just vaguely nodding and keeping to their own thoughts as they walked along.
Once again, Mona realised, she had caught herself saying something just for the sake of it. Daft, meaningless talk just seemed to pour out of her these days – talk about normal, everyday things when nobody walking along the corridor found the situation normal at all, talk that drowned all the unspoken words of dread and worry about her precious daughter.
Mona and Sophie walked down the ward first, followed by Heather and the two men. Each one went to the head of the bed and kissed Lily and had a few words of encouragement for her, then sat down in a chair or went to another bed to locate a spare one.
‘More presents!’ Lily said gleefully, as Pat put a large brown paper bag on her bedside table, then bent to give her a kiss on the forehead.
‘From oul’ Mrs Kelly at the bottom of the street,’ he told her. ‘D’you want me to open it for you?’
‘Aye,’ Lily said, making an effort to nod her head. She took a breath, holding it in to expand her lungs as the physiotherapist had told her to do. ‘I’m dyin’ to see what’s in it.’ Then, as Pat opened the paper bag and withdrew the colourful contents, she gave an excited gasp. ‘A selection box!’ Then her brows came down. ‘What kind of sweeties are in it, Daddy?’ She quizzed. ‘Is there a game on the back of the box?’
Pat smiled and made a show of rolling his eyes to the ceiling in exasperation, and then as he moved closer to the bed he started to rhyme out the contents of the Christmas-decorated cardboard box. ‘Chocolate Buttons, a bar of chocolate, a chocolate Santie Clause –’
Lily cut him off midflow, having made her decision. ‘I’ll have the bar of chocolate and we can all have a square,’ she told her father.
‘Are you sure you’re allowed chocolate at this hour of the night, darlin’?’ Mona checked anxiously.
‘Aye, aye,’ Lily replied, her eyes watching Pat’s every move as he opened the box and extracted the chosen bar of chocolate, which he then proceeded to break into individual squares as his daughter had instructed. ‘Our Patrick and Declan will be ragin’ they’re not here to get a bit of the chocolate!’ she giggled now, then went into a small spasm of coughing, making everyone look at each other anxiously.
After she finished coughing, Pat gave her a drink then he lifted the chocolate again from the bedside cabinet. Lily had the first square and Pat was handing the rest of the chocolate around when he became aware of two well-dressed figures making their way towards the bed. He turned to look, and his face suddenly drained of colour.
Mona looked curiously at him first, as he stood planted on the spot, then she turned around to view the visitors. There was a sudden heavy silence, then everyone around the bed turned to see what had caused the reaction.
‘Claire . . .’ Pat finally said, moving forward to greet his sister and the older, prosperous Protestant husband that had caused all the trouble by daring to fall in love with her and then marry her.
‘Hello . . .’ Claire said in a low, hesitant voice. She was smaller and slimmer than her brothers, but there was a definite likeness. She had also rounded off the thick brogue they had all arrived in Scotland with, but the soft warmth of her local Irish accent was still evident.
She and her husband Andy paused just a few feet from the bottom of Lily’s bed, both dressed to the last in obviously expensive clothes, and drawing curious glances from the other visitors. They had to be somebody of note with the man’s thick black overcoat, pin-stripe suit and pristine shirt and tie. Something about the well-cut grey hair, the clothes and the way he carried himself, plus his wife’s rig-out, made them whisper that he must be somebody really important. He was definitely not just an insurance man or a bank-clerk type in a suit.
Claire’s hair was shorter than the last time anyone had seen her, and looked blacker and sleeker in a Cleopatra-style bob. She was wearing a dark brown cashmere coat with a creamy-coloured, luxurious fur on the collar and cuffs and she had a crocodile-leather handbag slipped over her wrist.
Sophie, who decided to stay put in her chair for the moment, glanced anxiously over at Mona and saw her whole body suddenly stiffen up, as though she had received an electric jolt.
Mona, stony-faced and injured looking, turned her back on the others now to face Lily and Heather, as though the visitors were but a brief interruption who would go away as quickly as they had come.
Fintan, red-faced and awkward, moved out of his chair to join his brother and sister, while Heather slid up to the top of the bed beside Lily, because she didn’t know what else to do. She didn’t know how she should greet this aunt who she had been close to only a few years ago and who now looked like a beautiful, dark-haired stranger. A stranger whom her Auntie Mona had been obsessed with for the last two years, and whose presence might just make Mona blow up at any minute.
From the safety of the corner at Lily’s bed, Heather decided that she would wait and see how the real grown-ups handled this delicate situation. She was especially watching Mona, who looked like she was go
ing to have something in the line of a heart attack or a stroke, as she listened to Claire’s refined voice explaining that this was the first chance they’d had to come out to see Lily.
After speaking quietly to her brothers for a few minutes, Claire moved towards Sophie on the opposite side of the bed from Mona. ‘How are you, Sophie?’ she asked, then without waiting for a reply, she looked across at her other sister-in-law. ‘Mona?’
Mona sat rigid, staring silently ahead as if she hadn’t heard her.
‘I hope you don’t mind us just landing out here . . .’ Claire went on, moving towards Lily, ‘but I wanted to come out to see my little god-daughter as soon as I heard.’ She squeezed Heather’s hand as she passed, and then turned now to the bright little face propped up on the pillows. ‘How are you, pet?’ she said, her manicured hands coming to stroke Lily’s hair and cheek.
‘I’m fine!’ Lily announced, giving her aunt a beaming smile. ‘I haven’t seen you for ages . . . Where have you been?’
Mona’s shoulders rose and her back straightened in her wine wool coat as though gearing up for anything that came her way. And she was more than ready to meet it, even if it came from Pat – her treacherous husband – who had been the first to move towards the uninvited and most definitely unwanted visitors. She looked around the group at the bed now, and wondered who amongst them had taken it upon themselves to let this pair know about Lily being in hospital.
‘I live in Glasgow now,’ Claire said softly, smiling at the child and trying to ignore the tears that were prickling at the back of her eyes. ‘It’s a good bit away from here . . .’
Lily’s face was now more serious. ‘How did you not come back to see us?’ she demanded. ‘It’s about two or three years.’
‘Well, I’m back now, darling,’ Claire said, carefully skirting around the question. She rubbed a finger to the side of both eyes. ‘And I came to see you just as soon as I could.’ Claire turned and gestured towards her husband who was standing chatting with Fintan and Pat. ‘You know your Uncle Andy, don’t you, girls?’ She looked first at Lily and then at Heather. Both girls looked blankly back at her, vaguely uncomfortable and unable to remember if they had ever met this tall, silver-haired man before.
‘Andy . . .’ Claire beckoned, and he came towards the bed, smiling warmly at anyone who caught his eye. ‘This is little Lily and,’ she put her arm through her older niece’s, ‘this is Heather. You’ve heard me often talk about Heather and Kirsty, her younger sister.’
‘Of course I have,’ Andy said, beaming at them. ‘You’ve talked about them so often I feel as if I know them well myself.’
He put his hand out to Heather and she shook it, suddenly feeling that this was really a very nice, polite man, and not the monster that Mona and some of the other family members had constantly castigated.
‘Hello,’ Heather said, averting her eyes from the stern-faced Auntie Mona. ‘I’m pleased to meet you . . .’ After that, she couldn’t think of anything else to say to him.
‘And young Lily,’ he said, coming to lean casually, but carefully, on the metal side of her bed. ‘I hope you’re feeling much better, young lady.’
Lily nodded her head. ‘I’m fine,’ she told him, delighted at all the attention. ‘I wasn’t very well for a while, but I’m getting better. They might be lettin’ me out for Christmas.’
She turned to her mother now. ‘Have you asked the doctor yet, Mammy?’
Mona’s face went a deep red. She was caught in the spotlight now with all eyes on her.
‘They’re giving you till the end of the week,’ she replied in a small, terse voice, ‘to see how you are then.’ She looked back to the nurses’ station at the end of the ward as though seeking some kind of telepathic confirmation about the situation.
Heather glanced across at her mother and for a few seconds their eyes met, and she knew Sophie was finding it as painful and awkward as herself.
‘Every day,’ Lily announced, to her new audience, ‘I’m getting better and better – I can move my legs and arms more now. Look,’ she said, moving her arms very slowly from beneath the covers. ‘I can nearly lift them up in the air.’ After a few seconds, her arms dropped back onto the bed and the effort it had taken was plain on her little creased face.
‘She’s a great girl, hardly ever complains,’ Sophie spoke out now, feeling that she should contribute something towards the conversation, and wanting to let Claire and her husband know that she had no axe to grind with them. She never had – she’d always liked Claire, and the girls had adored her. But it was hard to be heard when Mona and the other women shouted down anyone who went against the Church. In the end, being the peace-loving soul that she was, she’d given in, deciding that this was something the Grace family should sort out between themselves.
And thankfully Pat and Fintan had finally moved to do something about it. And now, like the men, she was aware she would have to answer to Mona for her involvement. She would be blamed for getting in touch with Claire, but she was well used to handling her sister-in-law’s wrath and would deal with it somehow when it descended upon her.
Since she knew she was already in deep trouble for not ignoring Claire now, Sophie decided ‘in for a penny in for a pound’. ‘You’re looking very well, Claire – living in Glasgow must be suiting you.’
‘Oh, it’s grand,’ Claire replied, a warm, grateful smile spreading on her pretty face. She moved to sit beside Sophie on the chair that Heather had vacated. ‘I’ve surprised myself, I’ve really settled in well in Giffnock. The neighbours are all nice and friendly –’
Mona’s chair made a scraping noise as she suddenly stood up. ‘I’m goin’ out for a breath of fresh air,’ she announced to no one in particular, her lip curling and her eyes raised to the ceiling. ‘The air in here has got too warm for my liking.’ Then she made her exit, without looking directly at anyone.
Claire turned to her husband now, as though Mona’s little scene hadn’t just happened. ‘Have you the card and little present for Lily?’
‘Indeed I have!’ Andy said in his refined Glasgow accent. He reached into his inside pocket and withdrew a stiff white envelope and a small gift-wrapped box that obviously came from a jeweller’s shop. For a moment, he hesitated, realising that the little girl couldn’t manoeuvre herself into a position to take them from him, and then he laid them both down on a smooth part of the bed.
‘Thanks, Auntie Claire and Uncle Andy!’ Lily said, her gaze flitting from one to the other then falling on her cousin. ‘Will you open it for me, Heather?’ she said, twisting around in the bed to get a good angle from which to watch the present being opened.
The card with Disney characters was passed around for everybody to look at, then Heather carefully took off the ribbon and the pretty outer wrapping and opened the velvet box and held it out for Lily to get a good look at.
‘A locket!’ Lily gasped. Then she noticed the little ticket in the box. ‘A real gold locket!’ She looked at her father with wide, shining eyes. ‘It says it’s eighteen carat gold on it, Daddy – it must have cost a fortune!’ She suddenly gave a giggle. ‘And it’s not even Christmas yet!’
Everybody laughed now and Heather heaved a sigh of grateful relief that Mona hadn’t been there to witness the fuss that was being made of Claire and the expensive gift.
‘All my pals at school will be dead jealous,’ Lily rattled on, as Claire fastened the locket around her thin little neck. ‘They’ll all be wishin’ they caught that polio as well, when they see all the stuff everybody’s gave me!’
There was an awkward pause, which Lily didn’t even notice in her excitement, where Pat found a huge lump coming into his throat. ‘I’m just goin’ out to see your mammy, darlin’,’ he told her hoarsely, moisture glistening at the side of his eyes. ‘We’ll be back in a few minutes.’
For another ten minutes or so, Heather and her mother and father and Claire and her husband sat chatting and laughing with Lily, and then Claire
looked at the delicate watch on her slim wrist.
‘I think,’ she said to Andy, ‘that it’s time we headed off, and let the family have some time on their own with Lily.’
‘Whatever you like now,’ Andy said, giving a quick smile and casting a glance towards the bottom of the ward. There was still no sign of Mona or Pat returning.
Claire stood up and started fastening the buttons on her fur-collared coat. ‘I’ll make sure we don’t take so long to come and see you next time, pet,’ she told Lily. ‘And we might come out to Rowanhill to see you when you get out of hospital.’
‘You and Andy are welcome at our house any time, Claire,’ Fintan said, standing up to see them off.
‘And always remember you and yours are welcome at our house,’ Andy said, his face and tone suddenly serious. He pressed a small white business card into Fintan’s hand. ‘That has the house and my work’s phone number on it. Phone any time you or the girls want to come out to visit us or stay the night.’
The atmosphere in the car on the way home was as frosty as the clear night turned out to be – the three women in the back seat and the two men in the front.
‘The blidey cheek of them!’ Mona muttered several times in a row, obviously expecting some kind of a response, but no one in the car was forthcoming. Eventually, she could stand the silence no longer and went full steam ahead venting her anger.
‘Turning up at the hospital like Lord and Lady Muck . . . looking down on the rest of us from a great height. That Claire was always the same, but you’d think she could have found an uppity type amongst her own kind. There’s plenty of teachers and well-educated fellas around that would have suited her – but oh, no! Why she had to put the nail in the coffin by marryin’ that grey-headed oul’ Protestant yoke that’s old enough to be her father, I’ll never know.’ She halted to take a breath. ‘She’s made a holy show of the whole Grace family . . . I’m squirmin’ every time I’m at a meeting of the Catholic Mothers or the Parish Council in case anybody asks me how she is. And then she has the cheek to turn up at the hospital as large as life with that oul’ Church of Scotland relic along with her.’
The Grace Girls Page 15
