‘No, I thought I’d test you out first,’ said Gussie, then, blue eyes shining with merriment, added, ‘You being the most aggressive one.’
Beata gave an outraged gasp, then laughed too. ‘Do I have to keep quiet about it?’
‘No, you can mention it to Madeleine if you see her. I’ll write to the others and get everybody together to meet Mick. If we can arrange it, that is.’ There had still been no sighting of Duke and it might be difficult for Mims to get over from Lancashire. Even if she had known Clem’s address she could hardly invite him to come without asking Eliza too, and that was unthinkable. As they dawdled along she made a confession. ‘Eh, Beat, I feel really guilty about the way I treated Father when he wanted to marry Aunt Charlotte. Now I know just how he felt. If only I hadn’t been so against the match you and the others wouldn’t have been lumbered with that cruel woman.’
Beata was phlegmatic. ‘Oh well, it’s all water under the bridge. We’re still in one piece. Now, about this wedding…’
* * *
Of the brothers, only Joe answered his sister’s call, arranging to come over the next day. Working as a barmaid now after losing yet another job, Mims dared not ask for time off, but replied to Gussie’s letter saying she would definitely be there for the wedding and so would be delighted to be bridesmaid.
Knowing Madeleine would take umbrage if she was kept in the dark about the situation, and conversant with her shift pattern, Beata went to the hospital where she worked and invited her out for tea, saying she had something important to tell her.
Maddie was somewhat starchy at this intrusion. Her conscientiousness towards her patients – giving them precedence above the whims of her superiors – had held her back for promotion and the elevation to staff nurse had been a long time coming; she was dismayed that Beata’s appearance might endanger this. Commanding her sister to wait outside she finished what she had been doing before donning her nurse’s cape and accompanying Beata to a restaurant.
Here she was treated to beans on toast and a pot of Earl Grey.
‘By heck, you’re pushing the boat out.’ Her pain in remission, Maddie was less biting today. ‘To what do I owe the honour?’
‘I thought I’d best butter you up as we’re off to meet our Gussie’s intended,’ said Beata, then announced his identity.
Maddie was not the sort to fly off the handle but her annoyance was plain to see as she grumbled all the way through the meal about their sister being taken for a mug. ‘Pity! That’s all it is. You know how Gus adores children. She’s only marrying him in order that they’ll be taken care of.’
‘Well, I thought so at first,’ tendered Beata, neatly carving her toast. ‘It’s worrying that he’s out of work too…’
‘What?’
‘But have you noticed how like Vincent he is?’
Fork halfway to her mouth, Maddie curled her lip. ‘He’s nothing like him!’
‘Put aside the grey hair and imagine what he must have looked like as a younger version.’
Maddie chewed furiously and swallowed. ‘That’s just the point, he isn’t young.’
Hardly tasting her meal, Beata fought a rising feeling of despair that her sister was being so obtuse. ‘Just clear your mind of any prejudice, put yourself in Gussie’s shoes, think what she sees in him instead of what we see.’
‘I can’t for the life of me…’ Maddie was about to object yet again. But then, even though she still failed to see what anyone might find attractive in an old buffer like Mick, she suddenly visualized herself on a country station, saying goodbye to the man of her dreams, felt again the loneliness, the guilt, the hurt. Just because she had decided there would be no marriage for her, she had no right to deny her dearest sister this chance of happiness.
Eyes pensive, she scraped the last few beans onto the last triangle of toast, offering grudgingly, ‘Oh well, I suppose I see what you mean.’ Then she wagged her knife. ‘But if he doesn’t treat her right, I’ll have his whatsits off.’
Pleased to have fulfilled her role as Gussie’s emissary, Beata sat back to enjoy her cup of tea. After which she said they had better get moving, and summoned the waitress to fetch the bill. When it came she handed over a florin with the instruction, ‘Keep the change.’
‘How grand,’ teased Maddie as they left the restaurant.
Beata took it in good part. ‘Well, you have to be grand if you’re going to be a bridesmaid.’
Maddie’s face dropped at the thought of being so closely involved in a wedding that she herself would never have, and, to cover her feelings, said, ‘Oh, I hope she isn’t thinking of asking me. I couldn’t face all that nonsense.’
* * *
She was to repeat this when they arrived at Aunt Lizzie’s and her sister did indeed ask if she would accept the role. ‘Nay, I’m not bonny enough, I’ll only look daft dolled up like a crinoline.’
Gussie laughed. ‘I wasn’t reckoning on anything so fancy.’
But no amount of cajoling could get Maddie to agree and, after shaking her head adamantly, to change the subject she started chatting to Joe, who had come here after work.
Somewhat bemused, Gussie took a deep breath, smoothed her low-waisted dress into place and checked in the mirror to see that no wisps escaped her auburn bun. ‘Right, are we ready then?’ There was a sheen of apprehension to the normally calm blue eye. ‘I’ve told Mick we’ll meet on neutral territory, so he doesn’t feel too intimidated. The poor fellow’s really nervous.’
‘As he ought to be,’ muttered Joe, donning his trilby.
But in a few minutes he was chuckling as they set off, four abreast, along the street to the meeting place. ‘It’s like one of those stand-offs in a Western where the sheriff and his deputies are off to meet the baddie.’ And with a theatrical gesture he drew an imaginary gun from its holster, swivelled it several times then suddenly leaped around a comer to press himself against a wall and unleash a hail of bullets.
‘You daft bugger,’ smirked Maddie, and to her sisters, ‘Pretend you’re not with him.’
Mr Melody – or Mick, as they were now instructed to call him, though Beata felt she would never get used to it – looked much healthier than he had on previous occasions. Well, he would if he’d had some silly bugger looking after him, she thought, the others obviously entertaining a similar idea judging by the cut of their faces.
Mick read their expressions too, but, averse to any unpleasantness, forestalled its onset with an animated preamble, reaching out to shake each hand in friendly fashion. ‘Ye know, I was totally unaware till Augusta told me that you’re the family of my old army pal! Ah yes, dear Pa,’ he sighed, ‘God rest him, I was most sad to hear he’s no longer with us. I never knew or ye can be assured I would’ve come to pay me respects.’
There were nods and murmurs but then the room fell into an embarrassing silence again, none of them knowing how to begin this. The Irishness in him hating such interludes, Mick began to jabber for a while, about the weather, unemployment, anything. Then realizing that it must come to pass sometime he heaved a sigh and said, ‘Look, I can see you disapprove of me marrying your sister, well, I can tell yese, so do my own sons and daughters.’
Maddie showed offence. ‘Oh, they don’t mind her as the skivvy but not as their mother.’
‘Madeleine,’ groaned the bride-to-be.
Mick’s face crumpled too and he delved into his pocket for his pipe, not lighting it but using its stem to direct his case. ‘I’m not going to get embroiled in any argument. Just allow me to put my piece, if you would. No matter what any of you say, I think the world of Augusta and I hope she feels the same.’
Gussie took possession of his hand and gazed up at him.
Faced with such a look of mutual admiration there was nothing any of them could say. Joe stared at his feet; Maddie at the ceiling.
‘Well…’ Beata was the only one to comment. ‘I hope you’ll be very happy.’
Gussie smiled, then waited anxiously for
the response of her other sister and brother. That they both nodded made her smile even wider with relief. ‘Right, let’s celebrate with a cup of tea!’
But when her back was turned, all three turned their eyes on Mick to deliver an implicit warning. If he made Gus unhappy he would have to deal with them.
* * *
This still holding true, upon seeing their sister’s face radiant with joy at her wedding no one could dispute that she had found her role in life. Watching the moving ceremony, Beata even felt a touch of envy, wishing it were she who was the bride, marrying not some imaginary man but the one she had loved and lost who would forever visit her dreams, and for a fleeting moment she felt sad and empty, overwhelmed by despair. Oh, Tommy – how she missed him.
But then it was gone, washed away by the happiness she felt for her sister. And there was to be so much more to enjoy in the company of her siblings later that day when, after the wedding party broke up, she and Maddie, Joe and Mims went to a dance to make the most of their time together.
Still in their wedding attire, Joe dubbed them a fine-looking bunch, but singled out Mims for special treatment. Seventeen now, extremely attractive and bubbling over with joie de vivre, possessing eyes that could portray both defiance and laughter, she was deluged with requests to dance whilst Beata and Maddie had to make do with their brother for a partner. For a second it looked as if Beata might receive an invitation, but during his approach the young man’s eyes dropped to her swollen leg and he veered away to ask someone else. Far from being jealous of their prettier sister, though, she and Maddie gained almost as much enjoyment from watching her whirl around the ballroom as the young men who partnered her. So very like their mother, it was a joy to have Mims around, and at the end of the night Beata voiced the hope that it would not be too long before they got together again.
In fact it was only a matter of months, though this time the assembly was not such a happy one, gathered as they were to mourn Aunt Ethel’s death. It was no shock, of course, for she had been quite old, but having lived with her for so many years Joe was understandably more upset than the others.
‘You’d have thought our Duke could have showed his face after what she did for him.’ He looked round at those gathered in Ethel’s parlour after the funeral. ‘I mean, look at the ages of some of these old dears, and they’ve managed to get here to show their respects.’
‘Well, he may not have seen the obituary,’ said Augusta forgivingly, her arm linked through Mick’s. ‘And nobody’s seen him to let him know. He might not even be in Yorkshire.’
Joe dismissed this. ‘Aunt Wyn and Uncle Ted live in Southport but they still came.’
Not wanting to upset her brother further, Beata held the quip to herself but when he moved away to refill glasses with sherry she voiced it to her sisters. ‘They’ve probably just come to do an inventory of Ethel’s stuff and stake their claim.’ Enjoying a chuckle, she made herself look small. ‘I’m keeping out of their way in case they ask me to go and look after them again.’
‘Me and all,’ smirked Mims. ‘I hope they haven’t heard I’m between jobs again.’
The others shared a despairing glance, Maddie the one to wail, ‘What for this time?’
‘Sweeping up too early.’
‘You want putting in a bag and shaking up!’
‘I thought Clem might have been here,’ murmured Gussie, unconsciously stroking her husband’s hand. ‘I’d love to see him again, you know.’
The rest of her sisters nodded wistfully.
‘Mother would be so furious with that woman for driving us all apart,’ opined Maddie.
‘Eh dear,’ Beata looked sad. ‘All the old uns are dying off. I wonder who’ll be next?’
* * *
Whilst it was true that the older generation was gradually diminishing, some were still fit enough to enjoy a holiday. A couple of weeks after the funeral, Gussie received word from Aunt Nell and Uncle Charlie to say they were going away for a week. There would be an assistant stationmaster to fill Uncle’s role, of course, so there would be no need to worry about trains, but Aunt Nell would be grateful if Gussie and her new husband could come and look after the station house and the pets – with her family of course. This might have been an act of charity, for there was any amount of people who could fill Aunt Nell’s request, but whatever it was Augusta was quick to grasp the chance of a holiday for the children, and the following week the Melodys were on their way to Bolton Percy.
Plucked from their bug-infested dwelling and deposited in the countryside, it was tonic enough for Gussie to see such elation on their faces, especially Mick, who had suffered so much during the war and in the lean years afterwards. Why, he was almost like a child himself as he played with the pet rabbits alongside his offspring, groomed and fed and fondled them. How Gussie wished she could provide such a life for her loved ones for ever.
Other loved ones were to have a share in this happiness too, towards the end of the week Beata and Maddie coming over on the train to spend the day with them and to enjoy dinner cooked by their sister.
‘This is very tasty, Gus,’ Mick complimented his wife.
‘It should be, you’ve fed it often enough.’ Her reply was casual.
Aghast, Mick almost dropped his cutlery. ‘You’re never feeding me pet rabbit, woman!’
The children looking equally shocked, Augusta rolled a dry smile at them. ‘Eh, your father’s easily fooled.’ And everyone breathed again.
Much relieved, Mick shook his head laughingly. ‘That poor child doesn’t know what sort of a mother he’s being born to.’
At which everyone pricked up their ears and looked at Gussie, who had turned pink and said bashfully to her sisters. ‘I was going to tell you …’
Under murmurs of surprise from Maddie and Beata, Mick asked, ‘I haven’t spoken out of turn, have I?’
‘No, I just didn’t know how to begin.’ Gussie was chuckling now under a hail of congratulation from her sisters.
But after saying how pleased she was, Maddie added a warning for her aged brother-in-law. ‘Well, mind you don’t work her too hard.’
Mick frowned and was about to object when there was another interruption to the meal.
‘What the hell’s that racket?’ Maddie craned to look out of the window. The drone grew to a roar as a motorbike came right up to the station house, some of the younger children looking afraid. Only when the rider lifted his goggles did the Kilmaster sisters realize his identity – ‘It’s our Joe!’ – and everyone went out to crowd around him.
‘I went to York but they told me you were here!’ Still astride the bike, face speckled with dirt, Joe lifted one of the bolder children to straddle it too.
‘Isn’t that a grand machine?’ praised Mick, running envious eyes along the glossy black tank.
Joe pulled off his helmet and smilingly admitted, ‘Only borrowed, I’m afraid. No point me buying one seeing as I’m off to sign up.’ He handed the helmet to another child who put it on her head.
‘What, for the army?’ Beata grinned.
‘Aye! York and Lancs, same as Father.’ Joe looked elated.
Whilst his sisters might congratulate him for realizing this long-held dream, Mick was aghast. ‘Give up a good job like yours to be ordered around by some bully of a corporal? You want your bumps feeling.’
Joe smoothed his ruffled auburn hair. ‘It’s what I’ve always wanted.’ Lifting the child off first, he alighted and set the bike on its stand. ‘I’m just waiting for Aunt Ethel’s estate to come through probate, then I’ll be free to do as I please.’
‘You’re mad.’ Mick shook his grizzled head.
Joe did not give a jot for this incomer’s opinion, only that his sisters seemed glad for him.
‘Well, just make sure you keep in touch,’ warned Gussie, steering him into the house.
‘I will,’ he promised.
‘We’ll believe it when we see it,’ said Beata, with that characteristic shrewd lo
ok in her blue eye. ‘You men are all alike. If it wasn’t for us lasses making the effort you’d lose contact altogether.’
* * *
But true to his word Joe did keep in touch. With his duties as executor fulfilled, before leaving for the barracks he packed up all the things unspecified in Ethel’s will, such as crockery and other household items, and dispatched it to his sister Gussie, who was most in need of it. Moreover, he put forth the suggestion that he, Maddie and Beata should club together and make monthly contributions so that Gussie could afford to move to a better house. That bug-ridden dwelling was no place to raise a baby and their sister deserved better after all her own self-sacrifice. Mick’s army pension and Brendan’s reduced dole being insufficient to keep them, Gus already had several jobs, but these would have to stop once the birth approached. His sisters in agreement, Joe put this to his brother-in-law, who conceded that it made sense, hence the move was made to a newer abode. Once in receipt of his army pay, Joe was to send regular instalments home, along with letters that kept his sisters informed of his progress.
‘Eh, he’s a good lad,’ said Gus, flourishing the postal order that had come with the latest letter, along with a festive card.
‘He’s only repaying what you’ve done for him over the years,’ Beata reminded her, she and Maddie here on a pre-Christmas visit. ‘As we all are.’
Gussie gave a happy shrug. ‘Oh well, it’s very kind of you all, anyway. Poor Mick, he’d do more but he’s got a bad back you know. He’s at the doctor’s getting it seen to.’ She went off to fetch cups from the scullery.
Maddie leaned over to hiss, ‘God, I love her but I wish she wasn’t so soft! It isn’t just her who’s married him, she’s roped us all in.’
Beata enjoyed a private smile. As much as she might chunter about Mick taking advantage, Maddie had confessed to sitting up all last night with scraps of material and embroidery silks, struggling to finish the dolls’ clothes for her sister’s stepchildren, determined that they would not miss out, though her arthritic fingers must have been racked with pain.
A Different Kind of Love Page 66
