Songbird

by Josephine Cox

  “I won’t.”

  “Ah sure, I can’t abide folks who think they know better than anybody else.”

  “I know you can’t,” Raymond agreed stolidly. “As for me, I can’t abide folks who are argumentative, frustrating, and difficult to please.”

  “Oh! Would that be me you’re talking about, by any chance?”

  “Well, if the cap fits…?” He gave her a sideways glance.

  Alice had to laugh. “Will ye listen to the two of us,” she croaked. “Going at each other like an old married couple, so we are.”

  “That’s exactly what I want,” he answered softly.

  “What… the two of us fighting and feuding?” As if she didn’t know what he was getting at.

  “Me and you – ‘an old married couple.’” Another sideways glance. “So, what do you think?”

  “Glory be! Are you asking me to marry you?”

  “I might be.”

  “Then I might think about it,” she replied teasingly. She pointed to the cyclist wobbling alongside them. “Watch out for the old fella. And for goodness sake, keep your mind on the road!”

  He smiled to himself. Alice had said she might think about them getting wed. That meant there was a chance.

  His smile grew broader.

  “And what the divil are you grinning at, like some Cheshire Cat, might I ask?”

  “Just thinking.”

  “Well, stop thinking and do like I said – keep your eyes on the road!”

  Though, as he came onto the straight, her heart couldn’t help but smile too.

  Thirteen

  By the end of November, winter had really begun to settle in. Blue skies had fallen to gray, the wind was bitter and for three days now, the driving rain had been relentless. But as always, inside Bob Maitland’s house, at number 8, Ackerman Street, it was cozy and warm.

  “Look at me! I’m so big and heavy, my legs are going bandy.” Having negotiated the narrow stairway, Maddy ambled into the kitchen for breakfast. Patting her swollen belly, she eased herself into a chair. “I’ll be glad when the baby’s born,” she groaned.

  “I’m not surprised.” Grandad wagged a finger. “You’re never still – making beds, sweeping the yard like somebody possessed, and insisting on your turn to do the washing and cooking. In your condition, you need to take things easy, lass, not drive yourself into the ground.”

  Like any woeful man with misguided intentions he hoped to make her see sense by pointing out how, “It’s obvious you’re dog-tired, and I can’t help but notice how lately, you seem to be covered in spots.”

  Oblivious to the fact that his kindly meant comments were not helping to restore Maddy’s confidence, he went blithely on, “All the upheaval of moving here, and the burden of carrying a child – well, it’s plainly telling on you, lass. It stands to reason, you can’t push yourself to the limits and still look bright and lively. So will you listen to me, pet, and be kind to yourself. Ease up a bit, eh?”

  Feeling more self-conscious than ever, Maddy gingerly stroked her puffy face. “Where are they, these spots that I’m supposed to have?” She felt miserable now. “I haven’t seen any.”

  At that moment Ellen arrived from the front room, where she had been hanging her smalls on the clothes horse. “Ellen? Have I got spots all over my face?” Maddy asked.

  “I can’t see any,” Ellen said, peering at her. “What makes you think you’ve got spots anyway?”

  “Grandad Bob said I had some.” Getting out of the chair, Maddy went to the fireplace, where she stretched up to look in the overhead mirror. “Where are they?”

  “I’m surprised at you, Grandad,” Ellen gently chided. “I would have thought you knew better than to tell a woman she’s looking at her worst, especially when she’s eight months’ pregnant and already feeling self-conscious.”

  “I’m very sorry, lass.” It came as no surprise to the old gent that he had put his foot in it, because women had always been a mystery to him.

  “I know you are.” And to prove it, his granddaughter gave him a huge cuddle. “You’re just a bit dippy at times.”

  At which both he and Maddy smiled at each other, and when he gave her a reassuring wink, she gave one right back.

  Later that day, Grandad popped down the road to the bookies. “I’ll not be long,” he announced. “If you two want to go into town, I’ll run you there one day this week.”

  “We might take you up on that,” Ellen replied.

  When he was out the door, she checked in the cupboards and fridge. “We’re short on bread and sugar,” she told Maddy, “and there’s only half a pint of milk left. If you really want to make that rice pudding tonight, we’ll need another couple of pints.”

  “And I desperately need some bigger knickers,” Maddy groaned. “My belly’s hanging over these ones – look!” Dropping the waist of her elasticated skirt she displayed the pink mound of flesh that was her baby. The knickers were all bunched up underneath. “Every time I stand up, I’m frightened in case my pants end up round my ankles!”

  Laughing, she rolled her eyes. “Honestly, Ellen, I feel like a walrus out of water. I long for the day when I’m normal again, and I can throw out all this baggy underwear.”

  “Oh no, you mustn’t throw them out.” Ellen acted horrified. “Best to burn them in the grate.”

  Maddy was puzzled. “Why?”

  “Because it makes sense,” Ellen replied with a twinkle in her eye, “Why spend good money on expensive coal, when your big knickers will keep us warm for a week?”

  When Grandad opened the front door, he could hear the two of them helpless with laughter. “Tell me the joke then,” he asked, and they did. “I had thought about having radiators put in,” he confessed, “but I can hang on a bit, if you like.”

  When the laughter subsided, he thought how wonderful it was having them here. “You’re a pair of terrors,” he chuckled. “One thing’s for sure, this house is more alive since you’ve been here, and so am I. God only knows what I’d do if you ever upped sticks and left.”

  With that he collected his pipe and baccy and retired to the front room, to check on his cherished sculptures.

  Grandad’s innocent remarks had set Maddy and Ellen to thinking, and when he was out of hearing distance, Ellen reminded Maddy, “I would hate to hurt him, but you and I both know, we can’t stay here forever. When the baby’s born, we said we’d find a place of our own. But if we move out, he’ll be heartbroken.”

  “Maybe not.” Maddy had seen for herself how strong-minded and independent Grandad Bob could be, and after all, he had been content enough before they arrived on the scene.

  “We owe him a lot,” she told Ellen now, “but if we don’t find a place of our own soon, he might begin to think we’re taking advantage, and that wouldn’t be fair on him, or us. So, maybe the sooner we do get a place the better; as long as it’s not too far for us to visit each other, I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

  “You could be right,” Ellen conceded. “We can’t put on him forever, and with a baby, it’s bound to be a bit squashed here.”

  “So we’re agreed then,” Maddy asked. “We’ll get a place of our own, yes?”

  “Hopefully, yes. We’ll stick to our original plan, and like you said, Grandad will still be a big part of our lives. He can visit any time he likes, and when he’s had enough of us, he can always come home for some peace and quiet.”

  Maddy said she thought that would be kinder to him than having his sleep and his life disturbed by a new member of the household. “Babies are small and wonderful, but we all know, they can make their presence felt.”

  Maddy was ready to go along with whatever Ellen and her grandfather decided, but, “The baby isn’t due for nearly a month, so we don’t need to fret about it just now, do we? I mean, there’s still plenty of time for us to talk it all through if needed.”

  One thing she was sure of. “It would only be fair to let your grandad know what’s on our mind. He
might even have some good advice for us, especially if we let him have a say in where we choose to live.”

  “Of course!” Ellen clapped her hands. “We’ll let him feel as though he’s in charge – well, to a certain extent,” she added with a wry little grin. “I know from old that Grandad Bob likes nothing better than to be at the helm.”

  The truth was, neither Ellen nor Maddy could have known how events were already out of their hands.

  Very soon, the decision as to whether they might stay or go would be decided for them.

  The next day was like a mini summer. The skies cleared and the wind dropped, and even the sun showed its face. “Why don’t we take a run out to the Ribble Valley?” Grandad asked, his nose pressed to the window. “We should take advantage of this fine weather, in case it turns cold and wet again tomorrow.”

  Both Maddy and Ellen thought that was a brilliant idea. “We’ve been cooped up long enough,” Ellen declared lightheartedly. “Let’s go where the road takes us.”

  Maddy was excited about taking a drive out to the countryside. “It’s just what we need, a change of scene.”

  Ellen recalled a place from her childhood. “Can we stop for lunch at that lovely old inn on the moors – Whitely Inn, Whalley… oh.” Screwing her face up in frustration, she admitted, “I can’t recall the name now, or even where it was exactly.”

  “I reckon you had it right the first time, lass.” Grandad Bob scratched his head in that comical way he had when thinking hard. “Whitely Inn, that’s the one. I think!” He also was uncertain.

  An hour later, they were making their way along the Preston New Road. “This is the best car I’ve ever had.” Grandad Bob loved his secondhand Rover, though it was a little car and he was a big man, and sometimes he got a crick in his neck. However, the freedom of driving more than compensated for any niggling discomfort. “I’d forgotten what joy it was to get wherever you want, without waiting for a bus or a train. I got rid of my Escort after your nan died, and missed it ever since.”

  “I remember that Escort,” Ellen said, and she giggled. “Always breaking down.”

  “Aye well, I’ll admit that, but when it were gone, I missed it all the same. Many was the time when I thought of getting another, but I never did. Then you and Maddy came along, and that was the excuse I’d been waiting for. I’m not short of money, because I’ve been prudent over the years. And anyway, like I said, I’d been thinking of getting a car for some time. Oh, and I’ve already altered the insurance to accommodate you girls, so you can take it out whenever you like.

  “You do have a license, don’t you, lass?” He looked at Maddy through his driving mirror. “If not, we can soon teach you the ins and outs, once the baby is born.”

  “I do have a license,” Maddy informed him, “but I haven’t driven a car for a long time now. The traffic is so awful in London and parking is always a problem.”

  “Aye well, it’s like riding a bike. Once you’ve been there you never forget.” He discreetly made reference to Maddy’s growing proportions. “Traveling about on trams can’t be very pleasant, when you’re eight months’ pregnant and-” he was about to say, “with a belly the size of Blackburn Gasworks.” Instead, he tailed off and gave a sheepish grin. “So, you’re all right, are you?” he asked lamely.

  “Fine and dandy, thank you, Grandad Bob,” she replied with a knowing smile. “And you’re right, it’s not easy getting on and off buses and trams when you’re as big as an elephant.”

  “I never said that!”

  Maddy laughed. “Ah, but you were thinking it, I could tell.”

  “But it were you that said it, an’ if it had been me, the two of you would have been down my throat like a ferret down a rabbit-hole!”

  “You’re a loose cannon, Grandad,” Ellen grinned, “but we love you all the same.”

  Bob Maitland smiled to himself.

  He had family about him, and though he was prone to making the odd gaffe, he knew he was loved. There was laughter in his house, and a new baby on the way.

  What man could be happier, he thought contentedly.

  Maddy thought it was wonderful, seated here in the back of the car with two lovely, caring people up front. Sometimes in the house she had little time to think, but now, with the drum of the engine and the swish of tire against tarmac, she felt relaxed and at ease. But it wasn’t long before the doubts came flooding in. What future had they, she and the baby? She wondered how it would all end, and whether she would ever have the peace of mind she craved.

  When the fears threatened to overwhelm her, she thrust them to the back of her mind, and now, as Grandad and Ellen got caught up in sharing old memories, she turned her attention on the unfamiliar landscape.

  Preston New Road watched out over Blackburn Town from a great height. Flanked by handsome Victorian houses with deep bay windows and tall roofs, it was a main artery out of town; the roadway echoed to the rumble of vehicles, and the pavements were worn down by the dogged rhythm of passersby.

  Nearby, Corporation Park, where the three travelers stopped to stretch their legs, was a haven amidst the hustle and bustle. With its impressive entrance and colorful flowerbeds, it was a treasured and well-used place. Along its many paths and deeper into the woodland areas, there were ancient trees older than the town itself. Excited children could slide down manmade cliffs, play in sandpits and run about to their hearts’ content. There were swings, and a lake, where the ducks and other birds played and chased, to create delight for the onlookers.

  Maddy was already thinking how, in just a few short weeks, she could walk the baby in its pram, and show him or her the ducks in the lake, and when the child was a little older, the two of them could swing together and play in the sand, and create that special bond that united mother and child forever.

  Like every other visitor, Maddy was amazed and delighted to see such a beautiful place set right there, so close to traffic and houses, creating a special world all of its own. Everything appeared so neat and precise, yet there was a savage wildness about it that drew you in, deeper and deeper, until your soul mingled with the primitive, and your senses were brought alive by all manner of sights and smells, and all the while you were made aware of the tiny creatures which foraged about in the trees and shrubs.

  From one end of the park to the other, you would find any number of benches and alcoves, where you could hide from the world, or just sit and watch, and sometimes when you strayed from the main path you would stumble on secret, tree-lined walkways where you could wander at will and lose yourself for hours on end.

  Maddy was thrilled at the thought of showing all that magic to her baby one day.

  Soon they were back in the car and heading toward the moors. “Can you recall exactly where the inn was?” Grandad asked Ellen. “Because I’m buggered if I can.”

  “It was too long ago,” she told him. “We’ll just have to try every which way and all keep a lookout.”

  For the next hour or so, they enjoyed the beauty all around. They stopped at a babbling brook and paddled in the freezing cold water, afterward wiping their feet on Grandad’s old coat from the boot.

  They lingered in the heart of the moors and looked out across a bleak and magnificent landscape. As they were watching the deer, timid and wary as they flitted across the horizon, on the skyline a rider and horse leisurely hacked along, and there in the trees a magnificent falcon stared down on them with bright, fierce eyes.

  Enthralled and as wide-eyed as a child, Maddy thought she had never seen anything so extraordinarily beautiful.

  After a while, when they grew hungry and in need of refreshment, they got back in the car again and meandered on. “Turn right,” Ellen suggested as they came to a fork in the road. “I’ve a feeling the inn is down this way somewhere.”

  They had gone about half a mile, when Maddy shouted for them to stop. “Look – there it is! Whitely Inn!”

  The sign on the tree was weathered and barely legible, but close up, y
ou could just about read the writing.

  “Good girl.” Grandad was aching for a long glass of something cool.

  Another quarter of a mile and there it was.

  “That’s it!” Ellen was amazed. “It must have been ten or eleven years since I was here, and it hasn’t changed a bit.”

  “That’s not surprising,” Grandad quipped, “when it probably hasn’t changed much in hundreds of years.”

  After parking the car, they walked the short distance on foot. Maddy took stock of the fine old building; with its tall windows and thick, impressive doorway, it resembled an old-time castle.

  The interior carried the same style and atmosphere, with stone floors and dark narrow doorways, and all around, the wood-paneled walls were hung with gilt-framed images. Some of them depicted huntsmen seated by a fireplace, with their faithful hounds at their feet; others portrayed noblemen sitting around a table, their hounds in full sweat, with merry maids bringing them jugs of ale and tending to their every need.

  Grandad caught the eye of a waitress. “Do you have a table for three?” he asked.

  “For lunch, or a snack, sir?”

  “Lunch, if you will.” He bestowed one of his beguiling smiles on her. “We’re all a bit famished.”

  Ushering them to a table by the window, she then brought three beautiful menus which, being designed in brown and gold with a coat of armor at the head, were works of art in themselves.

  She took their drinks order. “Let me make sure I’ve got it right,” she said as she read it back. “One large strong coffee, a glass of sarsaparilla, and two pots of tea, one with milk and one without?”

  Satisfied, she moved away, leaving them to study the menus.

  By the time their drinks arrived, the choices were made. Grandad was having steak and chips, with peas on the side; Ellen opted for fish-pie and mash, and Maddy fancied Lancashire hotpot. “I haven’t tried it yet.” she told the others.