A Mother's Duty

by June Francis

  She kept her voice brisk. ‘What do you want?’

  ‘I’d like to do something with my calligraphy, but exactly what I don’t know.’

  ‘What is there?’

  He shrugged. ‘I could write signs for shops and things and there’s illuminated addresses but it’s not what you’d call secure work and I’m young and inexperienced. Probably the most sensible thing would be to get a job as a clerk in an office.’

  ‘A shipping office?’ she said with a stir of interest.

  ‘Maybe. Although I did see an advertisement a few weeks ago for the Customs and Excise, so I wrote after a job there. It would be pretty secure, I’m sure. They told me to apply again when I was seventeen.’ He hesitated. ‘Perhaps I could work here until my next birthday?’

  A smile broke over her face and she squeezed his arm. ‘That’s fine with me. You’re talking now like someone who’s got their head screwed on right. Have a break. Take Nelson for a walk. He’s been barking like mad since he heard your voice.’

  With Mick working with them for the moment and more help about the place, John suggested they might have a few days away. Maybe August when business was slack. Nancy was still with them, although for how long they did not know. She and Malcolm Galloway were seeing more of each other, but John doubted she would be leaving them just yet.

  ‘Where were you thinking of going?’ asked Kitty. ‘Blackpool? Llandudno?’

  ‘Scotland.’ He said the word almost casually, pulling her against his shoulder and kissing the corner of her mouth. ‘I haven’t told you before but Uncle Donald left me his cottage near Oban.’

  ‘A cottage!’ She immediately had visions of a thatched roof and roses round the door, of a garden full of hollyhocks and tall daisies. Her head twisted on the pillow and she tried to see his face in the dark. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

  ‘Because it’s not up to much. There’s no mains water or sewage. No gas, no electricity! It’s oil lamps, rainwater and an outside privy. But it would probably do us for a change for a few days and I’m sure the boys would enjoy it. There’s good walking and there’s the loch for fishing.’

  Kitty’s pretty picture vanished and her heart sank. ‘What about cooking?’

  ‘There’s the fire and an oven.’ He added rapidly, ‘I know it sounds primitive, Kit. That’s because it is. But it’s beautiful country and if we went it would mean I could go and see my grandfather.’

  ‘Your grandfather?’ she said carefully.

  ‘Hmmm!’ He kissed the corner of her mouth again. ‘I thought I’d take little John to see him.’

  There was a pause whilst she thought that one over. ‘I see,’ she said. ‘Couldn’t you just go up there with him on your own?’

  ‘You can’t be serious. He’s a baby! I couldn’t cope with him on my own. I need you!’

  ‘But it sounds such hard work!’

  ‘You won’t have to do any housework.’ He hugged her closer and kissed her full on the mouth. ‘There’s only two rooms and a scullery. It’ll be almost like camping out. The boys’ll enjoy it.’

  Kitty thought, If he says the boys’ll enjoy it once more I’ll scream. ‘I thought this holiday was for me,’ she said.

  ‘It is! It’ll be a change for you.’

  A change from hard work to harder work, she thought. ‘Am I allowed to think about it?’

  ‘Of course! August is a few weeks away yet. See how you feel after the tunnel opening. You might be glad of a bit of peace and quiet in the country by then.’

  The opening of the Mersey tunnel was only a week away. The King and Queen were coming to do the honours and there was to be a Grand Parade with a cast of thousands. Liverpool was going to be bursting at the seams.

  Maybe John was right, thought Kitty, as she stood wedged among the crowd watching the procession. It was warm and sticky and it felt as if the whole city had turned out. There were floats and people on horseback dressed in fancy dress and a lot of flag waving. It made one feel proud. The actual opening of the tunnel was no different. Thousands and thousands of people lined up to see the royal couple arrive in front of the tunnel entrance at the bottom of St John’s Lane. The sun blazed and Kitty longed for a cool breeze and no people.

  Mick had excused himself and taken Nelson to Prince’s Park where he met a couple of friends and lazed all day. Teddy would have gone fishing at the Cassie but Becky O’Neill, who was determined to be one of the first to drive through the tunnel, had asked him to join her and David in the car. Kitty thought how little John – or Jack, as he was starting to be called to prevent confusion – had no idea of the importance of the personage he was looking at as his father held him high in the air as George V performed his momentous task. In future years, she thought, he would be able to say he had been there on that important day for Merseyside.

  Afterwards, when family, friends and guests were still eating a celebratory buffet inside the hotel, Kitty was outside in the yard. She had just fed the baby, and was placing him in his pram and enjoying the quiet, when she heard Ben and Sarah coming down the yard. Her son was saying that he had found it more exciting watching the motorists revving up to be the first through the tunnel than seeing the King actually open it. Kitty smiled, thinking how they had all cheered Becky on despite her not having been the first in line.

  ‘I prefer the ferry to cars,’ said Sarah, taking a sucked bullseye out of her mouth to look at its changed colour. She sat alongside Ben on the pile of bricks taken from the Potters’ trunk.

  ‘You’re only saying that because your ma took our Teddy instead of you,’ said Ben, his arm round Nelson’s neck.

  ‘It’s true,’ said Sarah, widening her eyes. ‘I like the sea wind in my face, not horrible petrol fumes. Besides, what about the men on the luggage boats? They won’t have as much work now and’ll probably lose their jobs.’

  ‘That’s progress, Teddy says. Like having an inside lavatory instead of an outdoor one.’

  ‘We have an outside privy on the farm in Ireland.’ Sarah wrinkled her fastidious nose. ‘It has flowers growing round the door but it smells inside. If there’s a war and we go there I’m going to hate it because I can never go to the toilet when I go there and Mummy gets all cross.’

  ‘Why should there be a war?’ said Ben, fondling Nelson’s ears. ‘I haven’t heard there’s going to be a war.’

  ‘It’s the Germans.’ She pulled off her ribbon, which had slipped down her shining hair, and twisted it round a couple of fingers. ‘They’ve marched their big boots in somewhere. Daddy says it’s made everyone nervous.’

  ‘We won them last time,’ said Ben comfortingly. ‘And if they start fighting again our men’ll shoot them all and they’ll be sorry. Shall we go and take Nelson for a walk now? I want to show you where Green-toothed Ginny’s ghost lives.’

  They got up, smiled at Kitty and left the yard by the rear door.

  Kitty closed the door after them and walked slowly up the yard. She sat on the pile of bricks, not wanting to think about the disturbances in Austria which had almost resulted in civil war. Instead she considered it was times like this, when Becky brought Sarah and Siobhan to the hotel, that she grieved for what might have been. The pretty frocks and ribbons she could have bought and enjoyed dressing a daughter in. She realised with a start how big a part the buying and dressing up had played in her dreams, but she knew there was more to having a daughter than that.

  She said as much to John that night in bed. He pulled her into his arms and murmured against her ear, ‘If it’s buying pretty clothes you’re missing, buy some for yourself. Not too many mind, but I like you looking nice and too often I only see you in an apron or a nightgown.’ He paused. ‘Now about that trip to Scotland …?’

  She had almost forgotten about going north of the border. ‘How far is it?’

  ‘About three hundreds miles.’

  She was dismayed. ‘How are we going to get there?’

  ‘The O’Neills are going cruising again. The
y said we could borrow the car.’

  ‘You can drive?’

  ‘I drove a field ambulance during the war.’

  ‘But three hundred miles,’ she said, appalled. ‘And with a baby. What about nappies and changes of clothes for him? What about all the washing? I’ll never manage.’

  He hesitated before hugging her tightly and saying, ‘Of course you will. You’re a very capable woman.’

  ‘Not that capable,’ said Kitty. ‘And what if it rains when we’re there? I’ve heard it rains a lot in Scotland. I’ll never get things dry.’

  He pulled away from her and his eyes looked very dark. ‘Who says it’s going to rain? The weather can be lovely up there.’

  She hesitated, but no, she couldn’t cope with it. ‘Lovely or not, I think it’s a daft idea to take a baby all that way when there’s not even running water when we get there!’

  ‘There’ll be plenty if it rains,’ he retorted, laying on his stomach with his head on his arms.

  ‘Very funny,’ said Kitty. ‘Why don’t you just write to your grandfather and tell him about Jack?’

  ‘It’s not the same,’ he said in a muffled voice. ‘He needs to see him to believe in him. If Jack’s to go to medical school he’ll have to have help. Grandfather’s got money and if he doesn’t want to leave it to me, I’d like him to leave it to my son.’

  Kitty lay on her stomach and brought her face close up to John’s. ‘You’re doing what you told me not to do with Mick. You’re planning his life for him. He mightn’t want to be a doctor,’ she said emphatically.

  ‘Why should he not?’ His tone was huffy.

  ‘He just mightn’t.’

  ‘And he might! Don’t argue with me, Kit. I know more about what men want than you do.’

  ‘He’s only a baby,’ she said, exasperated.

  ‘And Grandfather’s an old man. He could die tomorrow!’

  ‘It’ll be a waste of time going up there then.’

  He pushed himself up on his knees, dragging the covers with him. ‘You just don’t want to go.’

  She turned on her side and looked up at him. ‘I don’t want to go,’ she said sweetly. ‘A rest is what I need. A rest! I’d come back from what you plan half-dead. Leave it till Jack’s potty trained and then we’ll go.’

  ‘It could be too late,’ he said harshly. ‘Haven’t you listened to a word I’ve said, Kit?’

  Kit did not answer, having made up her mind it was no use arguing with him. She rolled onto her other side and closed her eyes.

  ‘If he dies before he gets to see Jack it’ll be your fault,’ said John, pulling the covers off her as he lay down.

  Kitty did not move or say anything. The covers were flung back over her and she smiled. ‘See what the morning brings,’ she said, thinking that perhaps if she bought a couple of dozen more nappies and extra nightgowns and buster suits she might manage if it poured with rain. But bang went the couple of new frocks she had intended buying.

  Incredibly, Nancy chose the next day to tell them that Malcolm had asked her to marry him. ‘He wants the wedding immediately. Will you give me away, John?’ Her chubby face was pink with emotion.

  John glanced at Kitty, almost as if to say, you willed this! ‘Of course he will,’ she said, concealing her relief. ‘Will you have the wedding breakfast here?’

  ‘Only a small one,’ said Nancy hastily. ‘We don’t want a big fuss. Just a simple ceremony with family and a few friends. We thought we’d go up to Scotland for a week’s honeymoon.’

  ‘Where in Scotland?’ said John woodenly. ‘You wouldn’t be going anywhere near Grandfather’s?’

  ‘She couldn’t take the baby,’ said Kitty, her tongue in her cheek. ‘Not on their honeymoon.’

  John looked at his wife and there was a glint in his eyes. ‘Don’t be daft! As if I’d suggest such a thing.’

  ‘What is this?’ asked Nancy, looking bewildered.

  ‘Just a thought,’ said Kitty. ‘Were you planning on visiting your great-grandfather?’

  Nancy looked dubious. ‘I have thought of it in the past as you know – but next week? I’m not sure what Malcolm’s planned.’ Her face brightened. ‘If I get the chance I’ll go. I could tell him about you and John being married and little Jack.’

  Perfect, thought Kitty, and relinquished all thought of a holiday with only the teeniest of regrets. There were other things more important.

  Maybe next year?

  Chapter Twenty-One

  But the following August Kitty had other things on her mind. ‘There’s something not right with Annie,’ she mused, unwrapping sandwiches and gazing at John who was stretched out on a towel in navy blue bathing drawers.

  ‘She seems all right to me.’ He groaned as Jack plonked a damp sandy bottom on his bare thigh.

  ‘You don’t know her the way I do.’

  ‘Bite!’ exclaimed Jack, bouncing on his father’s leg and opening his mouth like a fledgling. He was fifteen months old.

  Kitty tore a bite-size morsel from the cold mutton sandwich and popped it in his mouth. She smiled as he chewed solemnly, remembering how he had looked when they had set out on the ferry that morning. He had worn yellow linette shorts and a white cellular blouse and had looked a picture.

  ‘What do you think’s wrong with her?’ asked John.

  Kitty looked to where Ben was splashing at the water’s edge and said vaguely, ‘I could be wrong but I think she’s broody – and it’s all down to her sister getting married. I remember she was a bit that way out last year when Nancy got married.’

  John sat up and eased Jack’s damp bottom off his leg and onto the towel. ‘We don’t want Annie getting married.’

  ‘I know! And isn’t that selfish of us? The trouble is she’s always said that she’s a one-man woman and that one man is Jimmy.’

  ‘So what’s the problem?’ said John, reaching for a sandwich. ‘She can’t have Jimmy so it looks like she’s going to stay on the shelf. Which suits us fine because we don’t want to lose her.’

  ‘That sounds all right,’ murmured Kitty. ‘But I hate the thought of her being that unhappy she goes into a decline. She hardly ever takes time off and when she does she never seems to go anywhere. Perhaps she could do with a little holiday? Go to Blackpool or Morecambe with one of her sisters. It would probably do her good and she’d settle down happily afterwards.’

  ‘I’m surprised you dare mention the word holiday.’ John fixed her with a steely look.

  Kitty pulled a face at him and gave her son another morsel of food. ‘It takes enough organising coming to New Brighton for a few hours so imagine what I’d have to do to make a three-hundred-mile trip? And what would be the use, love, if your grandfather refuses to see you?’ She tried to sound reasonable because they had already aired this issue several times. ‘You heard what Nancy said when she came back last year. He’s become a recluse. He won’t open the door to anyone, not even the minister or the doctor.’

  John said nothing but he did not look convinced.

  ‘Maybe next year, love,’ she continued. ‘Jack’ll be potty-trained then and he’ll be talking more and will be far more interesting to an old man.’

  ‘Stop making excuses,’ said John, biting savagely into another sandwich and chewing forcefully. ‘The trouble with your reasoning is that you keep forgetting Grandfather’s in his nineties and could die any minute.’

  ‘He’s lasted this long,’ murmured Kitty, reaching for the bottle of homemade lemonade. ‘And if Jack’s meant to have his money then he’ll get it. Your grandfather has to leave it somewhere. You have written to him and I sent a letter at the beginning of this year with a photograph of Jack.’

  ‘And we heard nothing back.’

  ‘He’s a stubborn old man. You’ve admitted that yourself.’ Kitty thought it sounded like he was also senile but she kept that thought to herself and changed the subject. ‘About Annie – shall I tell her to take a few days off?’

  ‘Why ask me?’
said John, stretching himself out on the towel again. ‘It’s you that makes all the decisions.’

  That’s not fair, she almost said but decided to let it go. After all he was not insisting they went to Scotland and neither had he spoken against Annie having a break, so she had got her own way twice.

  ‘Have a holiday?’ Annie looked at Kitty as if she had run mad. ‘I’ve never had a holiday. What d’yer want me to go on a holiday for?’ She sounded put out.

  ‘You need a holiday,’ insisted Kitty, shaking her head at her. ‘You haven’t been yourself lately. It shows in the way you’ve just spoken to me. Go and paddle in the sea and enjoy all the fun of the fair. Get right away from Liverpool. It’ll do you good.’

  For a moment she thought Annie was going to turn down her suggestion flat but her elfin face suddenly brightened and she said, ‘Perhaps I will. I’ll let yer know tomorrer for definite. Yer can always get our Monica to give yer a hand with it being the school holidays. She’s not a bad little worker.’

  The following morning Annie came downstairs with a small cardboard suitcase. She was dressed in a saxe blue afternoon frock, which she had bought from Lewis’s during their eighty-second birthday sale and she looked very different to her usual self. ‘I’m going, Kit, and I’ll be back in a couple of days. Whether that’ll be for good or not I don’t know.’ Her mouth was set determinedly.

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ asked Kitty, feeling slightly alarmed and wondering if her idea was going to backfire on her. ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘Ask no questions and yer’ll get told no lies,’ said Annie, tilting her chin. ‘I’ll tell yer when I come back.’ Without another word she departed.

  ‘She’s being real mysterious,’ said Ben, dipping a finger of toast in the yolk of a boiled egg and holding it out to Jack who nearly took his fingers off as he bit it. Ben grinned. His younger brother’s greed amused him greatly.

  ‘I wonder why?’ murmured Kitty. There had been something in the way Annie had spoken that reminded her of someone.