Walking Back to Happiness

by June Francis

  ‘All sorted out,’ he said.

  ‘Was Isabella upset because you couldn’t go?’ asked Lucia.

  ‘She must have been because she offered to send someone to pick me up. I told her not to bother as I preferred staying where I was in the circumstances; I was in no mood for a noisy party with dancing and games.’

  Lucia made no comment, hoping he really meant it when he said he preferred staying where he was and was not just being polite.

  Mouth-watering smells weaved about the kitchen and Lucia removed the turkey from the oven. The skin was a lovely crisp golden colour and she couldn’t wait to serve the food out and dig in. But there was no sign of Michael or Theresa and Gabrielle. She hoped there hadn’t been an accident. The weather had worsened and a fog had descended. She wondered whether to serve the meal immediately or wait for the others to come in. She decided on the latter after explaining the situation to Tim.

  An hour later there was the sound of a key in the lock of the front door. Lucia jumped to her feet and hurried into the darkening lobby. She could hear several voices all talking at once and thought she could make out three figures. She reached for the switch and light flooded the lobby; she saw that there were in fact four figures, not three as she had thought at first, one of whom was a stranger, a young woman of about seventeen with flushed cheeks in a delicate, heart-shaped face, framed by blonde hair fluffed out beneath the rim of a black fur hat. Michael stood at her shoulder, holding Gabrielle in his arms.

  Immediately he set eyes on Lucia, he held their sister out to her. She took Gabrielle from him and realized the skirt of her coat at the back was sodden. She clung to Lucia and began to cry.

  ‘What happened?’ Lucia hissed at Theresa.

  ‘She took no notice of me when I told her not to walk in the gutter where the water had iced over and she began to shatter the ice with the heels of her wellies. Eventually she slipped and landed on her bottom. I dragged her up but she wouldn’t stop crying – and that’s when our Michael and his girlfriend found us. Of course she cried all the more when she saw him and wanted him to carry her.’

  ‘I wet my knicks,’ said Gabrielle through sobs. ‘And I dropped Barbie.’

  ‘I did warn you not to take her,’ Theresa said, taking the doll from beneath her arm. ‘Anyway, she’s not as wet as you are.’

  ‘Her dress is dirty.’ Gabrielle’s tears flowed again.

  ‘Shhh! You’re a big girl now and big girls don’t cry,’ Lucia said. ‘You can go upstairs and change your knicks and we can wash Barbie’s dress. You haven’t hurt yourself, otherwise, have you?’ she added, distracted by the presence of her brother’s girlfriend. What on earth was he thinking of, springing such a surprise on her today of all days? How long had he been seeing this girl?

  ‘My skirt is wet too!’ said Gabrielle, poking Lucia in the chest.

  ‘Well, change it,’ responded Lucia. ‘And don’t poke me.’

  ‘But it’s my best Christmas skirt and I want to wear it.’

  ‘Take it off and I’ll put it in front of the fire. You can change back into it once it’s dry.’

  ‘OK!’ Gabrielle struggled to get down and headed for the stairs.

  ‘Don’t be long,’ Lucia called up. ‘I’m about to put the dinner out.’ She turned from the stairs and gazed at the girl standing next to Michael. ‘So what’s your name?’ she asked.

  ‘Marjorie Owens.’ She proffered a hand. ‘Mike’s told me all about you. I’m so pleased to meet you.’

  Lucia knew she could not express what she was feeling or thinking, aware as she was of her brother’s anxious expression, so she took Marjorie’s hand and patted it. ‘Welcome to our home and Happy Christmas. Have you eaten? We were just about to sit down to dinner.’

  ‘Yes, I have – and Mike’s had something as well.’

  Lucia bristled slightly at Marjorie’s shortening of Michael’s name.

  ‘Marjorie’s mam insisted I sit down with them,’ said Michael hastily. ‘But I’ve still room for some more.’

  ‘And what about Marjorie?’ asked Lucia. ‘Does she want to come and watch us eat or would she rather sit in front of the fire in the parlour and read a magazine until you’ve finished?’

  ‘Now there’s a choice,’ said Marjorie, smiling. ‘I’m sure you’d rather I wasn’t watching you eat and I’d enjoy a warm and a rest by the fire. Unlike Mike, I couldn’t eat another dinner. What magazines do you have? Would you mind if I make myself a cup of tea?’

  ‘Not at all! Although Theresa would happily make you one, I’m sure,’ said Lucia, not looking at her sister.

  ‘I’m happy to make my own,’ said Marjorie. ‘I should think Theresa is tired after her walk.’

  Neither sister insisted on making a cuppa for their visitor; after all, she had not been invited and they were both busy, so while Michael led Marjorie into the kitchen, Lucia suggested Theresa set the tureens of vegetables on the table and to ask the rest of the family to sit at table. She then asked Tim to carve the turkey. After they had finished eating, everybody agreed that it was the best turkey they had ever tasted. Not that turkey had ever featured much on the family’s Christmas menu in the past, thought Lucia. They had the Christmas pudding that had been in the Police Federation box with custard for afters.

  With the meal over, Lucia and Theresa set about dealing with the washing-up. Tim offered to dry and, as for Michael, he was in a hurry to join Marjorie in the parlour. Lucia turned down Tim’s offer and suggested that Michael pour Tim a beer.

  ‘Are you worried I might drop the dishes?’ asked Tim.

  ‘No, although I couldn’t afford to replace them – but you did provide the turkey so I think you’ve done your share. Why don’t you go and relax? Or watch your son at play? Isn’t this the first Christmas the pair of you have spent together?’

  ‘Is that what Maggie told you?’

  ‘No, she seldom mentions you, except to—’

  ‘Warn you against me?’

  Lucia felt her cheeks warm. ‘She told me you were a charmer.’

  ‘That was a warning. It’s something I can’t help. My mother told me it was a gift from God, that few people are blessed with charm and that I need to be careful how I use it.’

  ‘My auntie Babs has charm.’

  ‘The one who lives in California?’

  ‘Yes.’ Lucia put the last of the crockery away in a wall cupboard. ‘She’s coming over next year to see us. I can’t wait. Even on the dullest day she can make you feel as if the sun’s about to come out.’

  ‘That’s a rare gift. I doubt my family would ever say that about me.’

  ‘I’m sure they care about you, though.’

  ‘Strangely, Marty and Peggy do but not Lil. She hates me.’

  ‘Hates? That’s a strong word.’

  ‘It’s true, though. She’s the reason I didn’t want to go and have dinner today at Mam’s. Lil’s married and has a kid and they all live with Mam. I have no regrets, though. I’m enjoying myself being here with you – and the rest of your family.’

  ‘Not forgetting Jerry, of course!’ said Lucia.

  ‘Of course. The last Christmas Jerry and I spent together was in London with his mother. It wasn’t the happiest of days. We were living in a basement flat and knew very few people. Bernie was missing her sisters who always spoilt her and waited on her hand and foot. She wasn’t much of a cook and wanted me to take her out for a meal, but we didn’t have much in the way of money and the only woman I could have asked to babysit was naturally spending the day with her family.’

  ‘So what did you do about a Christmas meal eventually?’

  ‘I fried us a couple of steaks and boiled some spuds and sprouts. It wasn’t half bad but she complained it wasn’t a proper Christmas dinner like her mother used to make. I resisted reminding her that it was she who had wanted to leave Liverpool to get away from her mother. Eventually I suggested we take Jerry for a walk in the park, but in the end Jerry and I went on our own a
nd kicked a ball around. She said it was too cold for her. I have to admit it was blinking cold but Jerry seemed to enjoy himself.’

  ‘It must have been a terrible shock when she died?’

  ‘Too right it was, but we weren’t getting on that well and probably would have broken up eventually. Still, I didn’t wish her dead.’

  ‘Jerry never mentions her.’

  ‘It’s more than three years ago. If he talked about her to anyone it would be to Josie, my brother Marty’s daughter. Jerry’s just a year older and they spent a lot of time together when they were toddlers. Then there’s Bernie’s niece, Monica, who you know. She used to babysit for Bernie when she wanted a night out.’

  ‘I like Monica; she has a great singing voice. I assume you know that she got a recording contract around the same time as Tony?’

  ‘Yer! She’s a good kid.’

  ‘She’s around my age. You don’t regard me as a kid, do you?’ asked Lucia.

  He stared at her intently and their eyes met and held. She felt her heart beat the quicker. ‘No, but I am quite a few years older than you,’ he said.

  ‘I know that, but you don’t seem much older to me.’

  ‘Maybe that’s because you’ve a lot of responsibility for someone your age and had to grow up quickly.’

  Reminded of her responsibilities, Lucia said, ‘I suppose we should make a move into the parlour and see what’s going on. I’d appreciate your opinion of Michael’s girlfriend.’

  ‘I presume you weren’t expecting her?’

  ‘No, I didn’t even know he had a girlfriend. It’s the last thing I wanted and it must be serious because he’s met her mother.’

  Tim led the way to the door and held it open for her. She thanked him and together they walked down the lobby to the parlour. There was a lot of noise coming from inside the front room but the sound levels dropped as they entered.

  Lucia noticed that Michael and Marjorie were seated side by side on the sofa and James and Gabrielle had squashed in either side of them. On the coffee table in front of the sofa were the contents of the Airfix box that had been in James’s stocking. Obviously he was wanting his older brother’s help to fix the aeroplane together. On Marjorie’s lap was Gabrielle’s Barbie doll in a state of undress. In her hand she held one of the changes of clothes.

  ‘It would be lovely for Gabrielle to have more sets of clothes for Barbie,’ said Marjorie.

  ‘I should imagine they’re expensive because she came all the way from America,’ said Gabrielle. ‘And we don’t have much money.’

  ‘Perhaps Auntie Babs will bring you some more dolls’ clothes when she comes over here in summer,’ said Theresa.

  ‘Mrs Colman at the coffee bar makes dolls’ clothes,’ said Lucia. ‘With her having been a model, she’s interested in fashion, and started making costumes for dolls after she gave up modelling and worked in her sister-in-law’s tearoom-cum-shop in Whalley in summer time. I could take a set of Barbie’s clothing in next time I go to work so she’ll have a good idea of the size. I’m sure she wouldn’t charge us because I bet she has plenty of scraps of material left over from other things.’

  Gabrielle’s thin face lit up. ‘That would make me happy.’

  ‘Mike told me you work at the coffee bar that was the old Lenny’s Place,’ said Marjorie. ‘I used to go there occasionally with a friend, but I haven’t been since she left Liverpool and changed schools.’

  Lucia suppressed a wince at the girl’s use of the word Mike again. ‘So which school do you go to?’ asked Lucia.

  ‘Blackburn House. I’ll be leaving in summer, which will please Mum. She’s a widow. My dad was killed in the war. I’m an only. Hopefully if I get five GCEs, I’ll get a job at ICI.’

  ‘Well, good luck,’ said Lucia. ‘So where do you and your mother live?’

  ‘Near Newsham Park. Do you know it?’

  ‘I can’t say I’ve ever been there.’

  ‘It’s not far from where Nick and Bobby live,’ said Michael.

  ‘I know Newsham Park,’ said Tim. ‘You pass right by it on the 27-26 bus route. It was the bus I used to get sometimes when I lived in Liverpool south. It also takes you near Sefton Park.’

  ‘That’s where there’s a statue of Peter Pan,’ chimed in Jerry. ‘Dad took me to see it. I stroked a rabbit’s head.’

  ‘A real rabbit?’ asked Gabrielle.

  ‘No, a bronze one,’ said Jerry, a touch scornfully.

  Noticing Gabrielle’s bottom lip quiver, Lucia said, ‘Shall we change the subject and play a game?’

  ‘I’d rather play with my doll,’ said Gabrielle.

  ‘You play with your silly ol’ doll,’ said Joseph. ‘I’d like to play Snakes and Ladders.’

  ‘I’d like to as well,’ said Jerry. ‘What about you, Dad?’

  Lucia glanced at Tim to see what he thought of the idea and saw him nod.

  ‘Why not?’ he said. ‘It’s a while since I’ve played, so you’ll have to excuse me if I make mistakes.’

  ‘We can’t all play it,’ said Theresa. ‘I’d rather read my new book.’

  ‘You do that,’ Lucia said. ‘Otherwise we’d end up with too many round the board.’

  ‘I can’t stay much longer,’ said Marjorie, glancing at the clock. ‘In fact I should be going now.’ She looked at Michael, who instantly stood up.

  ‘Don’t be home too late,’ said Lucia, gazing at the pair.

  Michael gave her a look that said, Don’t fuss.

  Lucia watched the door close behind them before giving her attention to Tim and her remaining family. James was still fiddling about with the parts of his Airfix plane. Joseph had the Snakes and Ladders board open on the table ready. A chair had been left vacant for Lucia next to Tim. She sat down, thinking that this time last year her father had been seated where Tim was and her mother had been sitting in Theresa’s chair, reading the story of St Francis of Assisi and his love for birds and animals to them. The ready tears sprang to her eyes.

  ‘So what colour counters are you having, Lucia?’ asked Tim.

  ‘Green, it’s my favourite colour.’

  ‘Why is that?’ he asked.

  ‘It reminds me of spring and new growth. My father was a gardener and sometimes he would take me to work with him when I was small. Occasionally he would let me plant some of the cuttings. Seeing them grow was like magic to me.’

  ‘Shush, Lucia! It’s time we got started,’ said Joseph.

  She ‘shushed’ and gave her attention to the game, but her mind soon wandered to thoughts of Michael and Marjorie and what her mother would have thought of them going out together while they were both still at school. She came to when Joseph let out a yell. Apparently he had won the first game and Jerry looked likely to be second.

  ‘You’re last, Lucia,’ said Joseph. ‘You haven’t been concentrating. In fact I thought you’d fallen asleep.’

  Lucia roused herself and gazed down at the board. ‘Sorry, I was miles away.’

  ‘I beat Dad,’ Jerry said proudly.

  ‘Yes, they were both too good for me,’ said Tim, looking downcast.

  She wondered if he was bored and wishing he was going to the party at Isabella’s. Noticing his glass was empty she said, ‘Another beer?’

  ‘Thanks, although I don’t think it will improve my playing. In fact it could send me to sleep.’

  ‘You can’t go to sleep, Dad,’ said Jerry. ‘It wouldn’t be the same playing without you.’

  ‘I’ll make sure he stays awake,’ Lucia reassured him. ‘I want to see if I can beat him too.’

  ‘A challenge!’ cried Tim, his blue eyes sparkling. ‘Well, let’s get started.’

  ‘I’ll get the drinks first,’ said Lucia. ‘Do you boys want a drink too?’

  ‘Cream soda, please,’ said Joseph.

  ‘Me too, please,’ said Jerry.

  ‘You’ll need help to carry that many,’ Tim said, pushing back his chair. ‘I’ll give you a hand.’

/>   ‘Thanks!’ Lucia made for the kitchen, wanting to ask him if he was enjoying himself.

  She was glad she didn’t because while he was pouring cream soda from a Schofield’s bottle, he volunteered the words himself. ‘I’ve really enjoyed today. In fact it’s the best Christmas I’ve had in I don’t know how long.’

  ‘I’m glad,’ she said simply. ‘You’ve contributed to make it a good day for me and the children; having a man here helped them not to miss Dad so much, I’m sure. He was an only, so they have no uncles from his side of the family, he had an aunt but she was a widow, and it’s not quite the same having a priest for a great-uncle, although we do have aunt Nellie’s husband, uncle Michelangelo.’

  ‘Father Francis is a good man and I got to know him better when he visited me in prison. I found him easy to talk to – but then he was familiar with the background I came from. He knew how easy it was for a boy to get caught up with the wrong crowd during the war and afterwards. It’s something I want to touch on in my book. Isabella is keen for me to write about those days, especially about the leader of the gang and what it was about him that resulted in my being led astray. But what she’s really looking forward to reading about is my escape after the robbery and my time in Australia. She thinks the readers will want me to make good there … but obviously they’re in for a disappointment.’

  ‘But you’re going to make good eventually,’ Lucia said.

  ‘I hope so, but she keeps saying I’m not to get sloppy on her. That I should be considering how to make the ending exciting, not just going on about a happy ending.’

  Tim’s constant references to Isabella began to irritate Lucia. ‘And I suppose you think she would know, with her being a newspaper reporter? In my opinion one reads so much bad stuff in the papers that it’s a treat when we hear about the good stuff, such as when a child is seriously ill and it’s going to cost a fortune for a special operation, and those you least expect to send money to help do so.’