by June Francis
William scowled. ‘You’re not going to do anything?’
‘What d’you expect me to do, Dad? Use thumbscrews on our Peg? She can come along with me and Dougal and give the message to Bernie.’ He jerked his head in his sister’s direction. ‘Let’s be having you then!’
Peggy felt the pressure on her shoulder slacken as her father removed his hand. ‘You’d better not be late getting back, girl,’ he warned. ‘As for you, Martin, make sure she gets home safe. Now promise me, the pair of you.’
They both promised, knowing it was easier than arguing. Then they watched their father go straight into the pub.
Peggy glanced at Marty. ‘Thanks! I’ll be seeing you.’ She made to cross the road.
‘Not so fast,’ he said, grabbing her arm before lowering his side of the beer crate to the ground with his other hand. ‘Where d’you think you’re going?’
‘As if you didn’t know,’ she said. ‘Let me go! If you’re not careful, you’ll be turning into Dad!’
Marty’s well-formed mouth tightened. ‘Dougal, you hold on to the crate. I need to sort our Peg out.’
‘I’ll leave you to it,’ said Bernie’s cousin from Ireland, and headed off along the pavement dragging the crate with one end lifted off the ground.
‘I hope you’re not going to try and stop me having some fun?’ said Peggy, tapping her foot on the ground. ‘Living with Mam and Dad now you and Tommy are no longer at home isn’t a barrel of laughs.’
‘It’s never been a barrel of laughs,’ said Marty, keeping a tight grip on her arm. ‘But I don’t like the idea of you travelling about on your own on New Year’s Eve. Too many drunks and mad drivers.’
‘I’ll be fine!’ she said, attempting to prise his fingers from her arm. ‘I’ll get Jimmy to see me home.’
‘Jimmy! You mean the guitarist on the train?’
‘That’s him. He’s a nice Catholic boy,’ she said with an edge to her voice.
Marty stared at her unblinking. ‘He’s not the one you’ve been seeing, though, is he?’
Her eyes widened. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’
Marty’s eyes narrowed. ‘This message you have for Bernie doesn’t exist, does it?’
‘It does!’ she said indignantly. ‘It’s from an old workmate of hers. She wants to meet up in town and have a coffee and a chat. You can give the message to Bernie for me, save me the effort. Her name’s Marie Gallagher, and the meeting place, if Bernie can make it, is Lyon’s cafe on Lime Street at eleven o’clock on Friday. Now can I go? I’ve already missed one bus, I don’t want to miss another.’
‘I’ll see you across the road.’
‘I’m not a little kid! I can look after myself,’ she said, exasperated, not putting it past her brother to accompany her all the way to the Gianellis’ house. He could be so bossy at times!
Fortunately there wasn’t much of a queue at the bus stop and he released her.
‘I want the address, just in case,’ he said.
Just in case of what? she wondered. Does he think I’m going to vanish off the face of the earth like our Tommy? She knew from that stubborn expression on Marty’s face that she was going to have to tell him. Brothers! They could be a real pain in the neck.
As she sat on the bus, her mood changed and she was conscious of a bubbly feeling inside her. Despite their latest quarrel, she was looking forward to seeing Pete. If only he’d been Catholic, how simple her life would be. They wanted to get married but religion always got in the way of them deciding to go ahead and tie the knot. They were forever going over the same old ground and both of them ended up hurt, angry and frustrated.
Last time they quarrelled, Pete had the nerve to call her a coward, saying that she enjoyed leading him on and then calling a halt as she didn’t want to get into trouble. He’d shocked her when he’d said that perhaps the best way out of their situation was for her to get pregnant. Never! She hadn’t forgotten the names her father had called Bernie and Marty for ‘jumping the gun’ as William had put it. The worst of it was that she wanted Pete as much as he wanted her, he just didn’t understand how important having a white wedding in her own church was to her. He had no time for religion, although that did not stop him from going to church at Christmas with his mother. She had yet to meet widow Gertie Marshall and the thought of doing so had her all on edge because she had the feeling that no girl was going to be good enough for her Pete. The accident that caused him to spend months in hospital had forged a special bond between mother and son. She might not have been so loving if she had known what he’d been up to at the time.
Pete thought it was well past time that Peggy met his mother and he confronted her parents. She had refused point-blank. The very thought of him coming face to face with her parents filled her with dread. She did not need to be told that her fear was out of all proportion because Pete had already half-promised to marry in her church. Even so, once her father discovered that Pete was not a Catholic, she just knew an encounter between the two men would be fraught with unpleasantness. It would take a miracle for Pete to get over the threshold once he admitted to being a Proddy.
Even if Pete was allowed inside the house there was the matter of his gammy leg. Her father was bound to comment on it. If he did, Pete would just walk out because he was so touchy about being what he called a cripple.
The whole situation was hopeless, she thought miserably. She was wasting her time even being on this bus. It would be more sensible to get off at the next stop and catch a bus into town and go to the cinema. How she wished she was Irene Miller, who had no father, just a mother who didn’t care who you married, as long as you didn’t end up a spinster looking after someone else’s kids.
Four
Irene watched her mother remove a pipe cleaner from a lock of hair that sprang back into a curl. ‘You’re not going out tonight after all, are you, Mam?’
‘Don’t be daft, girl, but I don’t need yer here,’ Maisie mumbled. ‘Gertie’s coming round, and a couple of other friends, so you can go to the Gianellis’ party with a clear conscience.’
Irene felt a lift of her heart and then just as quickly came a sinking feeling. ‘If you’re thinking you’re going to spoil my evening because I decided to stay home and keep you company, forget it, Mam! I don’t mind seeing the New Year in with you.’
‘Are yer calling me a liar, daughter?’
‘No, but I didn’t think you’d be up to having friends in.’
‘I’m telling yer the truth! I really have got the girls coming round.’ Maisie sighed heavily. ‘Cross me bloody heart!’
‘Well, even if you have, they’re going to need food and drink and I can help you prepare that.’
‘They’re bringing the food and drink, so you can scoot,’ said Maisie, sounding exasperated as she picked up a hairbrush.
That’s a relief, thought Irene. ‘Who’s coming besides Gertie?’
‘Doris from up the street and Aline, who works with us. They’re both widows. Aline is originally from Glasgow and she’s promised to bring some Scottish dancing records and a bottle of whisky.’ Maisie gave a gummy grin. ‘That’ll deaden me pain. We might even have a go at the Highland Fling.’ She eyed the tartan trews that Irene was wearing. ‘If I thought I’d fit into those, I’d borrow them.’
Irene rolled her eyes. ‘I have to admire your guts, Mam.’
Maisie tilted her head to one side. ‘I’m determined to enjoy meself this evening as much as I can. Anyway, go and get changed and I’ll let yer know whether yer pass muster. It’s time you found yerself a fella. I suppose there might be some good ones at the party.’
Irene wished her mother wouldn’t go on about fellas. She left Maisie titivating in front of the mirror and almost danced upstairs. As she opened her wardrobe door, she hummed to herself, searching through the garments she had left hanging there when she moved out to accommodation at Fair Haven. She wondered why she was bothering when she knew that she had only one decent outfit to wear fo
r a party - the circular red and green cotton skirt Maisie had bought for her last birthday. She could match it with a lemon, lacy patterned, three-quarter-sleeve top with an opening at the neck fastened with tiny pearl buttons. She had knitted it herself and, despite a couple of slipped stitches, it didn’t look half bad.
She took out both garments, plus a cardigan and a pair of black ballerina pumps from the bottom of the wardrobe. Then she went over to the chest of drawers and removed a suspender belt, stockings, a net underskirt and the black waspie belt she had bought with the Christmas money Jimmy had given her. She wondered if the day would ever come when she could afford a whole pile of fashionable clothes that would result in her attracting the Prince Charming her mother was hoping would one day claim her only daughter.
As she changed into her party clothes, Irene prayed that she would not bump into any drunks outside the Red Lion pub up by the canal. Jimmy had gone on ahead to the Gianellis’ to rehearse with the group beforehand, so she would have to walk there alone.
Once dressed, Irene loosened her hair and gave it a good brush before tying it up in a pony tail with a black velvet ribbon. Then she took a coral lipstick from her handbag and went into her mother’s bedroom where there was a full-length mirror. She applied lipstick and then inspected herself from head to toe.
Not bad! she thought, smiling to herself and performing a twirl. She straightened a stocking seam before loosening a couple of strands of hair and twisting them into kiss curls either side of her face. Once she had been straw blonde but gradually her hair had turned a darker shade of fair. What she needed was some summer sunshine to lighten it. She could not afford to visit the hairdresser’s and have it bleached.
Her eyes narrowed as she inspected her face more closely. Was that a spot? She groaned inwardly, hoping it wouldn’t develop into a full-blown pimple during the evening. She went over to her mother’s dressing table and picked up the Max Factor pan stick lying there and put a dab on the spot and rubbed it in.
Suddenly she thought she heard her mother’s voice but could not make out what she was saying, so she hurried downstairs. ‘What did you say, Mam?’
‘I said what’s taking yer so long up there, girl? Let’s be having a look at yer.’
Irene rotated slowly. ‘Well?’ she asked, gazing at her mother.
Maisie nodded approvingly. ‘That was a good buy, that skirt, and yer made a decent job of the jumper. I hope yer going to be warm enough.’
‘I have my cardigan and I’ll soon get hot dancing.’ She fetched her coat and scarf. ‘When are Gertie and the others coming?’
‘Soon! Now stop fussing and get going. I’ll see yer in the New Year.’
Irene left the house and walked up the street towards the library. As she approached the building, a bus drew up at the bus stop and several people got off. She recognized Pete and his mother and, smiling, she waved and danced towards them. ‘Hi Pete! Hallo, Mrs Marshall! Mam’s expecting you. I really appreciated you going to the dentist with her. I would have gone if only she’d asked, but you know what she’s like.’
Gertie beamed at her. ‘I was glad to be of help, love. That’s what friends are for. You off to the party now? Our Pete will keep yer company. You can’t be too careful on New Year’s Eve when there’s lots of people about, drinking and acting the goat.’
‘Will you be all right, Mam, going the rest of the way yourself?’ asked Pete.
‘I’ll be fine, son. Nobody’s going to take a fancy to a scrawny bird like me. You go and enjoy yourself.’
He squeezed her shoulder. ‘I’ll see you later, Mam.’
She nodded and, with a wave of her hand, scuttled off.
Irene and Pete headed for the lift bridge. ‘I thought I wasn’t going to make the party,’ said Irene happily. ‘Volunteered to stay in with Mam but she had her own plans. I hope Peggy makes it,’ she added, slanting him a sidelong glance. ‘When I saw you yesterday I wondered if the pair of you had split up again. I know it’s none of my business—’
‘No, it isn’t,’ he said roughly, pausing on the bridge and staring down at the water which appeared silky in the lights from the pub.
‘Sorry,’ she muttered, thinking he must be in one of his touchy moods.
‘I just don’t want to talk about it!’ he burst out. ‘I’m fed up with the whole situation!’
‘OK! You don’t have to talk about it,’ she murmured, thinking how much easier life would be if people didn’t fall in love. She hesitated before adding, ‘Her brother asked me about you, you know.’
Pete started walking again, dragging his damaged leg. ‘What did you tell him?’
‘I didn’t tell him anything.’
‘Good! Peggy used to complain about Marty always coming the over-protective older brother. That’s what me and our Norm used to say about our Dougie but I know now he was only trying to do his best after our dad was killed in the war. He wanted to make things easier for Ma. Me and our Norm were right scally-wags when we were kids.’ He glanced at Irene. ‘What about your Jimmy? Does he come the big brother?’
‘Too right he does! He had a twin once, you know? I don’t remember him at all because he was run over when he was only a toddler.’
‘So Jimmy never got used to having him around growing up together,’ said Pete. ‘Me and our Norm always had each other to play with and go places. He followed my lead because I was the elder by half an hour.’
‘You must really miss him now he’s working away.’
‘We both would have joined the merchant navy if it wasn’t for the accident,’ said Pete moodily.
‘I’m sure your mother’s glad to have one of you at home.’
His expression clouded. ‘I’m not sure how she’d cope living on her own.’
‘What about when you do get married?’ asked Irene, without thinking. ‘She’ll be on her own then.’
Pete gave a mirthless laugh. ‘Can’t see that happening right now. Anyway, if it does happen, my wife and I could live with Ma. Thousands of young couples live with their parents these days. I know people say it’s not the best way to start married life, but there just aren’t enough houses getting built to replace those destroyed during the war.’
She agreed, having read about that herself in the Echo. They walked on in silence until they arrived in Litherland Park, a crescent where the Gianellis lived in a five-bedroomed house called The Chestnuts. The sound of music could be heard coming from the dwelling as they made their way up the drive to the front door. The lights were on in the downstairs rooms, as well as in the lobby and one of the first-floor bedrooms.
Pete rang the bell.
They heard hurrying footsteps and the door was opened by Nellie’s niece, Lucia, who was wearing a pink jumper and maroon skirt and strapped brown shoes. Her brown hair was twisted in a knot on top of her head and the style made her look older than her age. ‘Hi, glad you could both make it.’ She smiled broadly at Pete and Irene.
‘Are all the family here?’ asked Irene, stepping over the threshold.
Lucia’s eyes gleamed. ‘I wouldn’t be here if the kids weren’t here. Let’s be having your coats!’
Irene handed over hers. ‘Are you all staying the night?’
‘Yes, we’ll bunk down somewhere. The two younger ones are already asleep upstairs. If you want a word with Aunt Nellie, you’ll find her and Mam in the kitchen. You know the way.’
‘Is Peggy McGrath here?’ asked Irene.
Lucia frowned. ‘Is she the dark-haired, buxom one who was a workmate of Jeanette?’
‘That’s her.’
‘No, but someone who has turned up unexpectedly is Maggie Gregory. You want to see what she’s wearing! It’s fabulous!’ Lucia turned to Pete. ‘Can I take your overcoat, Mr Marshall?’
He rested his walking stick against the wall before removing the tweed garment and handing it over to her with an unexpected smile. Watching him, Irene thought how the smile completely altered his face. He was really good looking w
hen he stopped being moody and miserable.
‘You can call me Pete,’ he said.
Lucia mumbled something, blushed and hurried upstairs.
Irene turned to him. ‘Did you hear what she said? Maggie’s here.’
Pete frowned. ‘I thought she was still living in London.’
‘Last I heard she was supposed to be coming up for Christmas to see the family but called off at the last minute.’
‘Perhaps she had a modelling assignment.’
‘No idea.’ Irene changed the subject. ‘I’d better say hello to Mrs Gianelli. I’ll see you later, Pete.’
He picked up his stick and limped over to a door on the left. The sound of Tony Gianelli singing the catchy ‘Why Do Fools Fall in Love’ flooded out, only to be cut off as the door closed behind Pete.
Irene turned away and headed for the kitchen, wondering if Peggy might yet turn up for the party.
Peggy was not far away, standing within a stone’s throw of a telephone box outside Litherland library. No sooner had she got off the bus than she had caught sight of a crowd outside the Red Lion. It was obvious that some were already worse for drink if their performance of ‘Knees Up Mother Brown’ was anything to go by. Then she had spotted someone she recognized on the edge of the merrymakers and it gave her such a shock that she thought she would pass out.
Her first instinct was to dash up there and demand to know where Tommy had been since he went missing but then her common sense had asserted itself. She knew him well enough to know that she wouldn’t get a straight answer. This brother of hers was not only devious but a thief, a born liar and a selfish sod. What would it have cost him to write a letter to their mother all the years he had been away? Had he been here in Litherland at all during that time? Mary McGrath had been in desperate need of assurance that Tommy was still alive, although he’d rarely been anything but trouble.
What was he doing here in Litherland? Who did he know who lived in this neighbourhood? Perhaps she should stay put and keep an eye on him and see where he went when he left. The only fault with that idea was that she might be hanging around for ages and it was freezing. She supposed if Tommy went inside the pub, she could slip in after him. Although her parents had always told her that respectable girls didn’t go into pubs, unless accompanied by a family member or close friend.
