There is a Season

by There is a Season (retail) (epu

  ‘And Kate?’

  ‘Grandma called her in to cheer Josh up. He’s really upset by the news, and we thought Kate would take his mind off it. Albert Ashcroft is the Air Raid Warden for this street, and throwing his weight about already, telling us it’s a fine of two hundred pounds or two years’ imprisonment for showing a light.’

  ‘We’ll be all right now with those blackout curtains, anyway. I’ll bet Mr Ashcroft would enjoy reporting someone. He’s a horrible man, isn’t he?’

  ‘He’s bragging about his sons, too. They’re in camp with the Terriers so they’ll go right into the proper Army, he says.’

  ‘Anne says their boys are going in the Irish Guards. John seems to talk to her a lot,’ Sarah said. ‘She thinks Helen and Tony might bring the wedding forward from Christmas.’

  ‘Does she? I was just talking to Josie and she’s still worrying about Edie’s wedding, but I’ve told her there’s no sense in altering the arrangements.’ And as though on cue, Josie called and came down the lobby.

  ‘I was just talking about Edie’s wedding,’ Cathy said. ‘Saying you should go ahead as planned.’

  ‘But what if the Germans come?’

  ‘You’ve got enough food for them, haven’t you?’ Cathy laughed, but Josie was not in the mood for jokes.

  ‘I feel nearly distracted,’ she said, ‘what with one thing and another. I was harassed enough about the wedding without this worry as well.’

  ‘I don’t think anything will happen this week, Josie,’ Cathy said. ‘Hitler’s too busy bombing Poland, God forgive him, to bother about us yet. Have you made up your mind about the evacuation?’

  ‘Yes, I’m not letting the little ones go. Our Eunice can go with the school because she’s old enough to look out for herself, but I’m keeping Danny and Frank here and I don’t care what people say about me,’ her friend said defiantly.

  ‘It’s got nothing to do with anyone else,’ Cathy assured her. ‘I think you’re doing the right thing anyway. Kate leaves school at Easter so I don’t have that worry trying to decide what to do.’

  Later Sarah walked along the lobby and stood at the door for a moment. Women still stood about in groups, talking. Mr Ashcroft bustled up to them.

  ‘You shouldn’t stand about in gangs like this,’ he said officiously. ‘You make a perfect target.’

  ‘What for? Seagulls?’ one woman said derisively, and another folded her arms belligerently.

  ‘Don’t talk bloody soft,’ she said to him. ‘There’s no planes going over.’

  ‘There could be,’ he said, retreating a little from the angry women.

  ‘Then you should’a sounded your sireen,’ she said. ‘Listen, if I want to stand on me own parapet no bloody German’s going to stop me, and no fussy little bugger like you, neither!’

  Sarah went back into the house, smiling. ‘I’m glad I went out,’ she said to her mother, ‘I was just in time for a row between Mrs Gunter and Mr Ashcroft. He couldn’t get away quick enough.’

  ‘We can do without fighting among ourselves,’ Cathy said with a sigh. ‘We’ll have enough to do with the Germans.’

  ‘But we’re not on our own,’ Sarah said. ‘It said on the wireless that France and New Zealand and Australia have all declared war on Germany, and in the paper there was an article by a Frenchman. He said France has a big army because their men are conscripted, and an efficient air force and Navy as well as the Maginot Line, so they’re in no danger.’

  ‘There’s nothing wrong with your brain anyway,’ Cathy said admiringly. ‘You seem well up in all that’s going on.’

  ‘Only because I’ve got time on my hands now, and people talk to me,’ Sarah said with a smile.

  ‘Has our John said anything to you about being picked on at work?’ Cathy asked.

  Sarah shook her head. ‘No, he’s never mentioned it.’

  ‘He hasn’t said anything to me, but Dad said it started when Germany and Russia signed that pact last month. None of the men’ll speak to him, but they make cracks among themselves about him being a Russian spy.’

  ‘No wonder he’s so fed up,’ Sarah exclaimed. ‘Why doesn’t he tackle them?’

  ‘He said to Dad he didn’t go to Spain to fight for Russia, he went to fight for fair shares for all men. He saw real socialism in action there and will never forget it.’

  ‘He told me about that. He said there were no officers and men, just all soldiers as equals and no one grabbing for more for themselves. Everyone just sharing and working for one another.’

  ‘It sounds great,’ her mother said, ‘but I can’t see it working here.’

  ‘I don’t think it worked everywhere there, just in that part where John was for a while, but he said it made him realize it could happen, and he’s glad he went just for that.’

  ‘It’s to be hoped these fellows at work don’t make him sorry he did! You look tired, Sarah. I’ll just nip over to Grandma’s and see if Kate’s coming back for her tea, then I’ll do ours. I’ll have to cook for the others as they come in.’

  Sarah admitted that she was tired and a little later thankfully went back to bed, but was too unsettled and excited to sleep. Mick rushed in at nine o’clock to gobble some food and collect sandwiches to take with him, but before he went back to the depot he ran upstairs to see her.

  ‘I’ve just come from Mill Road Hospital,’ he said, ‘and I saw one of the Fitzgeralds in Everton Road. He said to tell you that the ceilidhe wasn’t on tonight so you haven’t missed anything. I don’t know which one – I think it was Joe.’ He rushed away before Sarah could ask any questions.

  On Monday morning Josie came in with her eyes reddened by tears. ‘I was sorry I’d registered our Eunice when it came to it,’ she said. ‘She didn’t want to go, and all the poor kids looked so bewildered. She’s upset about missing the wedding too.’

  ‘She’ll be all right,’ Cathy consoled her. ‘She’s with her friends, and the teachers are going to look after them, aren’t they?’

  Josie began to cry again. ‘I took Danny and Frank with me to see her off, and a man came and told me off because I was keeping them at home. I think he was a headmaster. He said the bombing could start at any time, and possibly gas attacks, and I was selfish and irresponsible to keep them at home.’

  ‘Don’t take any notice,’ Cathy said. ‘No one knows what’s going to happen.’ But she looked uneasily at Sarah.

  Most of the children of school age had gone from the street, and it seemed unnaturally quiet. Kate’s school was closed as most of the pupils had gone to North Wales and shelters had to be ready before the remaining children could return to school.

  The news on the wireless was grim. The Athenia, a passenger ship, had been sunk by a U-Boat and about one hundred lives lost. The horror and revulsion at the news was all the greater in Liverpool because so many local men were at sea.

  Poland was still fighting bravely, with cavalry officers trying to fight tanks, and the Royal Air Force was dropping thousands of leaflets on Germany, hoping to rouse the German people against Hitler.

  The doctor came again and ordered Sarah back to bed, only allowing her to get up for a few hours in the evening, and not to walk about or go out of doors. She felt thoroughly miserable, cooped up, unable to discuss the news except with her own family, and seeing no end to her illness.

  Her mother was busy, helping Josie with the preparations for Edie’s wedding, but her grandmother often came to sit with her, and told her anecdotes about her early life which made the hours pass more quickly for Sarah, and gave her much to think about when she was alone.

  ‘How is Josh?’ she asked one day.

  ‘Not too well. I don’t put the news on because it only upsets him, but Kate amuses him and takes his mind off things,’ Sally said. ‘Everyone’s different, Sarah.’

  Cathy brought her news of the wedding; some good, some bad. Bert’s brother who was to have been best man had gone into the Fleet Air Arm, and his mother said that she could
n’t bear to watch the wedding with someone else talking his place. ‘Josie flew at her, told her she had two sons and owed it to Bert to be there. I came out quickly. They looked as though they were going to come to blows,’ Cathy said, laughing.

  ‘And the good news?’

  ‘Eunice might get home for the wedding. She’s staying with two ladies near Pwhelli and they know a man who’s driving a lorry to the docks on Friday, staying in Liverpool overnight, and driving back. He says he doesn’t mind staying over and going back on Sunday to take Eunice back then.’

  ‘I’m made up,’ Sarah said. ‘She would never have got over missing being a bridesmaid.’

  ‘Yes, and it sounds as though she’s with good people too.’

  Saturday was a beautiful morning, sunny and mild, and Sarah stood at the front door to see Edie leaving for church. Eunice and Bert’s sister came out first, Eunice almost alight with excitement, both wearing peach-coloured taffeta dresses made by Cathy and carrying bouquets of bronze chrysanthemums.

  Edie followed shortly afterwards. She was a buxom girl but Cathy had skilfully cut her white satin dress to give her the appearance of a shapely figure, with a full skirt falling into graceful folds and a short train. Happiness had softened her features and made her eyes bright, and Sarah exclaimed impulsively, ‘You look beautiful Edie.’

  The bride gave her a brilliant smile, then she was handed into the wedding car by her father and Sarah went back to bed feeling sad.

  Anne came to see her after work. ‘Less than a week since it started and such a lot seems to have happened! Tony and Joe and Stephen have all applied for the Irish Guards, and I don’t know how many of the crowd from the ceilidhe and the dance have gone. Jim Morley off the drums, and Jimmy Osborne, and Big Feet… oh, dozens of fellows.’

  ‘Mum says all the young men have gone from the Co-op, nearly,’ Sarah said. ‘The two young chaps from Peggy’s Parlour, they’ve gone. Er – did you know our John had tried to join up?’

  ‘No. What happened?’ Anne asked eagerly.

  ‘He was refused. Supposedly on medical grounds,’ Sarah said.

  ‘But he seems quite fit now.’

  ‘I know. They said his foot wouldn’t stand up to marching and drilling, but he tried the Navy too and it was no use.’

  ‘So what will he do?’

  Sarah shrugged. ‘He’ll have to carry on with the repair job, I suppose, and hope things will change.’

  ‘The Pools have closed, you know, so our Eileen and Joe are out of work,’ Anne said. ‘Tony’s place had gone on to war work, and Stephen and Terry are all right, but they expect to be called up soon anyway.’

  ‘I feel as though I’m on another planet, stuck up here not seeing people and not knowing what’s going on,’ Sarah suddenly exclaimed.

  ‘You must be fed up,’ Anne said sympathetically. ‘Our lads and Eileen would like to come and see you. Could they come tomorrow?’

  ‘I’d love to see them,’ Sarah said eagerly. Her mother had come into the bedroom with a tray of supper for them both, and to replenish the fire, and was enthusiastic about the idea.

  ‘I’m sure Sarah would be all right to get up tomorrow for the day,’ she said. ‘She’s done everything the doctor told her, and a change would do her good.’

  Before Anne left it was arranged that she would come on the following afternoon with some of her brothers and sisters. Later Cathy told Sarah that she would light the parlour fire early in the morning so that it would be warm for them to sit there.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Cathy was proud of her parlour and felt it was looking its best on Sunday, with a bright fire burning and roses in a cut glass vase scenting the air.

  She had helped Sarah to wash and set her hair, and by two o’clock she was sitting by the fire, wearing her favourite green woollen dress. The stiffness in her limbs made her walk like a marionette so she decided that she would be sitting in the chair when the Fitzgeralds arrived, and stay there until they went.

  Anne had said tactfully that they would like to come at two o’clock and leave at five to be home for tea.

  ‘But can’t you stay for tea?’ Cathy protested.

  ‘No, I’m sorry. We have to go home. There are some cousins coming,’ Anne said. Cathy was sure that she was trying to avoid making work for her, but made no further protest.

  Terry, Joe and Eileen came with Anne. They said that Stephen had intended to come but had to work a double shift. They had all brought gifts: Eileen a bunch of chrysanthemums and a tin of talcum powder which she said was from her and Stephen, Anne a traycloth to embroider and embroidery silks sent by Maureen, Terry grapes, and Joe a small thick copy of Pepys’ Diary bound in red.

  ‘It’s like Christmas,’ Sarah exclaimed, her eyes sparkling. ‘Thanks, everyone, and will you thank Maureen and Stephen?’ Her father had shown the Fitzgeralds in and taken their coats, and now her mother came to welcome them, and Sarah showed her the gifts.

  ‘I’m not good at sewing but you’ll show me the embroidery stitches, won’t you, Mum?’

  While the others talked to Cathy, Sarah opened her book and saw that Joe had written on the flyleaf: “To Sarah from Joe Fitzgerald. September 1939.” She smiled at him and said quietly, ‘Thanks, Joe. I’ll enjoy this.’

  He smiled too and said in a low voice, ‘It’s one of my favourites. It’s good to escape to sixteen-sixty and see they had their problems too, I think.’

  Terry had taken the grapes from their bag and unwrapped the tissue paper around them. ‘I’m the only proper sick visitor, aren’t I, Mrs Redmond?’ he said to Cathy. ‘I brought grapes.’

  ‘You are indeed,’ she said, laughing. ‘But if you were a proper sick visitor, you’d eat some yourself. That’s what people do.’

  ‘Don’t you dare,’ cried Anne, and Terry sat close beside Sarah’s chair.

  ‘These are all for Sarah,’ he said virtuously, ‘and I’m going to feed her with them.’

  He popped a grape into her mouth and she said indistinctly, ‘I can still use my hands, you know.’

  ‘Use them to give him a push, Sarah,’ Eileen said, but Terry held her hands in one of his and continued to feed her the grapes.

  John popped his head round the door as Cathy carried the flowers out. ‘What’s all this hilarity?’ he said with mock severity. He came in. Terry had released Sarah’s hands and gone to put the grapes on top of the piano, and immediately he and Eileen and Anne began to talk to John.

  Sarah picked up her book again and glanced at Joe. He leaned forward to speak to her and was about to take Terry’s place on the stool beside her when John said, ‘Hello there, Joe. I believe your job’s kaput.’ He walked over and sat down beside Joe and began to talk earnestly to him.

  Terry came back to the stool beside Sarah, and the usual wisecracking and mock insults began between him and his sisters, with Terry begging Sarah to take his part and defend him from this monstrous regiment of women.

  ‘I’m a woman too,’ she objected.

  ‘You are, alanah,’ he declared, taking her hand and pressing it to his chest. ‘That’s your greatest attraction for me.’

  He looked up soulfully and Eileen said sweetly, ‘What’s up? Is there a fly on the ceiling?’

  Kate’s music lay on the piano and Eileen was persuaded to play for them. They all sang the ballads she played: “The Last Rose of Summer” and “The Mountains of Mourne”, and when she played “Believe Me If All Those Endearing Young Charms”, Terry went on one knee before Sarah and sang to her with his hand on his heart.

  Later Cathy wheeled in a tea trolley set with cups and saucers and plates of cakes and tiny sandwiches.

  ‘You shouldn’t have bothered,’ Anne protested. ‘We’ve just had a big dinner and we’re going home for tea.’

  ‘You’ve passed twenty houses since your dinner, as my mother would say,’ Cathy said. ‘Will you be mother, Anne? And you hand things round, John.’

  Anne picked up the big teapot and
poured the tea. John came to help and then sat down beside her. Terry insisted on cutting Sarah’s cake into small pieces, and offered to hold her cup to her mouth.

  ‘Will you stop it?’ she laughed. ‘I’ll think I’ve got one foot in the grave before you’ve finished.’

  To Sarah it was all good fun, and she thoroughly enjoyed the laughter and the company, but when the Fitzgeralds had gone, John said to her, ‘Is Terry sweet on you, Sar?’

  ‘No, of course not. It was just the part he was playing this afternoon.’

  ‘I don’t know. It convinced me,’ John said. ‘Joe was looking a bit thoughtful, too. Probably thinking it would be another wedding present to buy.’

  ‘Don’t be daft!’ Sarah said, but in later years she often looked back on that afternoon and wondered. Was that when it all started? If Terry had not brought grapes and sat down beside her with them… If John had not come in just when he did…

  Now, though, she felt invigorated by her happy afternoon, and told her mother that she was going to try to walk over to her grandma’s house and make a real effort to make her stiff limbs flexible again.

  ‘Leave it until tomorrow,’ Cathy said. ‘You’ve done enough for one day.’ The following morning Sarah walked round the house until she was moving easily, then linked her arm in her mother’s and walked over to her grandmother’s house.

  As usual Sally’s kitchen was warm and bright, and she pushed forward a chair beside the fire for Sarah. ‘I think Doctor O’Neill’s too fussy,’ Sarah said. ‘Making me stay in bed when I’m getting more and more stiff’

  ‘As long as you keep warm, girl,’ Sally said, ‘I think you’ll be better up. You’ll have to find another doctor, anyway. Peggy says Doctor O’Neill’s gone in the Forces.’

  ‘But he didn’t say anything, and it’s only just over a week since he came,’ Sarah exclaimed.

  ‘Well, Peggy says there’s a notice in his surgery window telling his patients to find another doctor.’

  ‘I’ll have to do that, because he only gave me a sick note for a fortnight,’ Sarah said, looking worried.

  But Sally said calmly, ‘Everything’s at sixes and sevens now. I wouldn’t worry about that.’