Love Letters in the Sand

by June Francis

  ‘I see. But you’ll have to tell him right away because it’ll be him who’ll have to apply for nursery places and there’s bound to be a waiting list. How is Bernie by the way?’

  ‘I haven’t seen her for weeks. But Marty says she recognizes him now, with him visiting so much, but she still doesn’t remember them getting married.’

  Nellie frowned. ‘What about the children?’

  ‘Apparently she asks after them but he’s wondering if that’s only because Bernie’s mother and sisters talk about them to her so much.’

  ‘And Tommy?’

  Peggy shrugged. ‘Marty doesn’t mention him.’

  Nellie’s frown deepened. ‘What of her back injury?’

  ‘They’re getting her up this week and if she can walk, then she’ll be allowed home. Possibly in time for my sister’s wedding.’

  ‘Well, the sooner you talk to Marty about your plans the better.’

  ‘I’ll do that this evening. There’s something else I want your advice about. I know you’ve known Irene and Jimmy’s mother a long time.’

  ‘Yes, although we haven’t been in touch for a while.’

  ‘According to Pete’s mother she’s very ill. He’s told Jimmy that he should get in touch with Irene and tell her to come home.’

  ‘Oh, Lord,’ murmured Nellie. ‘That doesn’t sound good but I think Pete’s right and Irene should be told about her mother and the sooner the better.’

  Peggy said gloomily, ‘I thought you’d say that. Her boyfriend’s not going to like it.’

  ‘What boyfriend?’ asked Nellie.

  ‘Marty mentioned her having one. I can’t remember his name,’ said Peggy. ‘I wondered whether Pete’s mother should write to her?’

  ‘I’ll give you Betty’s address and you can see she gets it,’ said Nellie.

  At that moment Babs approached, carrying a book. ‘Here it is.’ She handed it to Peggy who looked at the cover and read the title. ‘The Cat in the Hat by Dr Seuss,’ she murmured. ‘What a peculiar looking cat! Although, I suppose it’ll make a change from Harry the Dirty Dog and Winnie the Pooh. I’ll give it to my brother. He’s the one that reads the stories.’ She glanced at Babs. ‘Thanks.’

  ‘It’s not me you have to thank; it’s Irene, and Bobby, of course,’ said Babs.

  Peggy smiled, placed the book in her shopping bag and took hold of the pram handle. ‘I’d best be going. I’ve shopping to do.’

  ‘I’ll write down Irene’s address for you,’ said Nellie, and went into the house.

  That evening, as they were eating their meal, Peggy told Marty that she and Pete were planning on getting married. He put down his knife and fork. ‘I could see it coming,’ he said. ‘Although I’m not sure where it leaves me. Have you fixed a date? And where are you going to tie the knot?’

  ‘We’re going to get married as soon as I can make the arrangements. Pete said he’ll fall in with whatever I want. And if you’re wondering where we going to live, it’ll be Pete’s mother’s.’

  ‘I hope the pair of you’ll be happy,’ murmured Marty, picking up his knife and fork again. ‘Your feelings for each other seemed to have stuck despite your ups and downs.’

  ‘I’m glad you think so,’ said Peggy happily. ‘Anyway, I haven’t finished. I’ve spoken to Mrs Gianelli about the chances of the children getting free places at Litherland Nursery. She thought you should apply. It’ll take a load off Bernie’s shoulders if she doesn’t have to look after them day in, day out. I know what hard work that is. And I could still help out here if Bernie can’t cope.’

  Marty nodded. ‘It sounds a good idea. Although when she comes home, you’ll still be here for a while, won’t you?’

  Peggy nodded, pleased that he had taken her news so well. ‘There’s something else,’ she said, getting up and going over to the sideboard and picking up the book there. ‘Mrs Gianelli’s sister asked me to give you this,’ she said, handing the book to him.

  ‘Why me?’ asked Marty, surprised. ‘I don’t know her. And this is a children’s book.’

  ‘It’s for Josie from Irene. Apparently it’s very popular in America.’

  Marty’s spirits soared. He handled the book almost reverently, thinking Her hands have held this book. He flicked over the pages, looking at the illustrations and reading bits of text and smiling.

  ‘Don’t you think it’s thoughtful of Irene?’ asked Peggy.

  ‘Very thoughtful,’ he murmured, deeply touched by that thoughtfulness. ‘Did Mrs Gianelli’s sister have anything else to say about Irene?’

  ‘No, although I spoke to Mrs Gianelli about Irene’s mother being ill. She thought Irene should be told, so I’m going to ask Pete’s mother to write to her, just in case Jimmy’s letter goes missing.’ Peggy glanced across at him. ‘Perhaps you should write to her as well and thank her for the book.’

  ‘Maybe I will. Mam would say it’s only good manners,’ said Marty.

  Twenty-Eight

  ‘Rock-a-bye baby on the treetops!’ Irene sang softly as she bottle-fed baby Janet Elizabeth, who had arrived earlier than expected.

  Betty sat on the window seat, gazing out over the garden, having refused to stay in bed any longer. ‘I should be doing that! I feel a failure as it is, not being able to breast feed her.’

  ‘Don’t be daft!’ said Irene. ‘It’s not your fault your milk failed to come in and anyway you’re paying me to look after Janet.’

  ‘A few dribbles, that’s all I was able to give her,’ mourned Betty, pushing back a handful of ginger hair.

  ‘Just be glad that there are good dried milk powder substitutes these days,’ said Irene. ‘And those “few dribbles” as you call them will have done her good. You ate and drank healthily during your pregnancy, so you did your best for her and yourself. Your teeth are still all right, aren’t they?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Well, there you are then, all that milk you drank saved the baby from using up all your calcium to build her bones.’

  ‘I never looked at it like that,’ said Betty, her expression brightening. She rose from the window seat. ‘I think I’ll go and see if the morning paper and my magazine have come and if there’s any mail.’

  ‘Take it easy,’ said Irene, hoping there would some letters for her. There were times when she really missed her mother, Jimmy and her friends, as well as the children from Fair Haven.

  As for Marty, she often yearned for him, wondering if he still thought about her. Maybe when he had read the postcard she had sent with its mention of Harry, he had considered her fickle. Had she done the right thing giving The Cat in the Hat to Bobby for Josie? But as soon as she had seen it in the bookstore window, she had known both Marty and Josie would enjoy it. What would he think when Bobby handed it over to him? Although maybe she would give it to Bernie? Irene hoped not, convinced she wouldn’t appreciate it.

  She sighed, telling herself that she had been right to come to this house in the Willow Glen neighbourhood of San Jose. It was an interesting place to walk around, alive with individual, architecturally designed houses and tree-lined streets. So much to do and see and yet she couldn’t forget Marty, especially as the attraction she felt for him could so easily have grown into something deep and satisfying. She thought about the way he haunted her dreams and she relived that kiss they had shared. Sometimes in that period between sleeping and waking, they weren’t in the house in Litherland but on a beach, leaving messages in the sand. He would wrap his arms around her and kiss her passionately. When that happened, she longed for the dreaming to be reality but it was just an impossible dream, since he was a married man.

  Irene eased the teat from the baby’s mouth and gently winded her. She told herself that she would be better off, fixing her thoughts on Harry, who seemed to think nothing of driving thousands of miles across this vast state of California, living as he was over two thousand miles away in Hollywood. He was amusing and seemed to have taken a shine to her. He had driven her to the beach at Sa
nta Cruz thirty miles away and had kissed her once or twice but those kisses did not have the power to stir her the way Marty’s had done. Anyway, Harry was bound to meet someone much more exciting and attractive than her on a film set sooner or later, and deep down inside, she guessed that his first love was writing.

  She placed the baby in her cradle, which was one of those fancy ones with rockers and a flower sprigged cotton and lace- edged canopy. She left her charge and went to deal with nappies and to wash and sterilize the bottle and teat in Milton solution.

  A short while later, Betty came into the small washroom next to the nursery. ‘There’s mail for you.’

  Irene dried her hands and picked up the airmail envelopes and looked at the first one with its Liverpool postmark. ‘This is from our Jimmy! I recognize his handwriting. He must be back from New Zealand.’

  ‘And the other two?’ asked Betty, sitting on a chair, only to get up again. ‘Let’s go into the nursery. This chair’s too hard for me.’

  Betty smiled down at her daughter as she passed her cradle and then sat on the cushioned window seat. Irene sat beside her. ‘I don’t recognize the handwriting on the other two,’ she murmured.

  ‘So which one are you opening first?’

  ‘I’ll save our Jimmy’s ’til last.’

  Irene slit open one of the other envelopes and removed a single sheet of thin airmail paper. It did not take her long to read because it was short and to the point.

  Dear Irene,

  I just want to thank you for the book you sent for Josie. I’ve already read it twice to her and Jerry and we all enjoyed it. Maybe it won’t be long before we see you back in Liverpool and we can thank you in person.

  Yours, Marty

  Her heart was beating fast as she read it again and then she folded it and returned it to its envelope and placed it in the pocket of her apron.

  ‘Who’s it from?’ asked Betty, glancing sidelong at her.

  ‘It’s a thank you note from Marty, for the book I sent for his little girl.’

  ‘Now that shows he has some good manners,’ said Betty. ‘Pity he’s married.’

  Irene opened the second envelope and this time it took her longer to read the letter. Her hands were trembling by the time she finished.

  ‘Well?’ asked Betty. ‘What’s it say? You look upset.’

  Irene did not immediately reply but instead slit open her brother’s letter and read it swiftly. Then she stood up and hurried from the room, went downstairs and outside. She sank on to the swing seat beneath the ripening fruit of the orange and lemon trees and gazed through her tears towards the vegetable patch where tomatoes and courgettes would soon be ready to pick. She did not want to believe what was written in the other two letters. Her mother had always seemed so strong and yet … hadn’t Irene always worried about that cough of hers? But how could she have become so ill so soon when she had been married such a short time? What was Alfred feeling right now, and his children? How could they possibly take care of her? Irene could guess why Maisie hadn’t even hinted that she was seriously ill in her occasional short letters. No doubt she didn’t want to worry Irene with her being so far away. What was she to do? Betty had only just had her baby and needed her help!

  ‘What is it? What’s wrong?’ Betty stared down at Irene.

  Irene kept her head lowered. ‘It’s nothing for you to worry about.’

  ‘Don’t lie to me!’ said Betty firmly, lowering herself carefully on to the swing seat. ‘There’s something seriously wrong, isn’t there?’ She placed a hand on Irene’s knee. ‘Is it your mother?’

  Irene’s head shot up. ‘How did you know?’

  Betty sighed. ‘Just a guess. I can’t see there being anything wrong with Jimmy and you were upset before you opened his letter. Whatever he wrote just made you worse.’

  Irene’s chin wobbled. ‘Mam’s very ill. Pete’s mother has been visiting her and the first letter was from her.’ Irene paused to gain control of herself and took a deep breath. ‘Both say I should go home.’

  ‘How long do they say she has?’

  Tears rolled down Irene’s cheeks. ‘They say I shouldn’t waste any time. I can’t believe this should have happened so quickly.’

  Betty squared her shoulders. ‘You have to go.’

  ‘But … but what about Janet?’

  ‘I’ll just have to manage, won’t I?’ said Betty, smiling wryly. ‘I’ll phone Stuart at the office. Hopefully he’s there and not on some building site.’

  Irene was amazed at how quickly Stuart arranged everything. She was to fly from San Francisco airport to New York where she would get a flight to London. ‘You’ll have to make your own arrangements from there on,’ said Betty.

  Irene protested that she did not have the money to fly home but Betty only hugged her and said, ‘What’s money between friends?’

  ‘I’ll pay you back,’ said Irene, resting her head on her friend’s shoulder for a moment.

  Betty patted her back and called her husband to take Irene to the airport.

  Irene was exhausted by the time she stepped down from the train in Lime Street station. She had telephoned the Gianellis’ house from London asking to speak to Jimmy. He had told her he would meet her under the clock in the station. She arrived there first and stood thinking about the other news that Pete’s mother had told her in her letter. It was obvious that she was bubbling over with joy at the news that Pete and Peggy were going to get married and would be living with her.

  She felt a tap on her shoulder and turned and saw her brother standing there. Not normally given to shows of physical affection, this time they hugged each other.

  ‘What news is there?’ she asked, as he picked up her suitcase. ‘How’s Mam?’

  ‘Let’s talk on the way. I thought we’d take a taxi,’ said Jimmy, looking grim. ‘You couldn’t have come to Liverpool at a worse time. We’ve been experiencing gales and there’s been piles of slates blown off roofs.’

  ‘What about Mam?’

  ‘I’ve some good news,’ he said hastily. ‘Jeanette’s had a baby boy. They’re calling him George David.’

  ‘Are they both all right?’

  Jimmy nodded. ‘And Pete and Peggy are getting married at last.’ He came to a stop at the end of a taxi queue.

  ‘I know that. His mother wrote to me. Now tell me – have you seen Mam since I phoned you from London?’

  He nodded, but instead of telling her how Maisie was, he said, ‘Peggy’s sister’s getting married today. Marty’s giving his sister away and little Josie is a bridesmaid. I see something of him since he moved his family into our house. His wife won’t be at the wedding because she only recently came out of hospital after the accident.’

  The queue shifted up.

  Irene just knew her brother wanted her to ask about the accident but she wasn’t going to play his game. She was getting really impatient, scared and annoyed with him. ‘Will you stop beating about the bush and tell me about Mam?’ she said firmly.

  He stared at her and moistened his lips. ‘I’m sorry, our kid. She’s dead.’

  ‘Dead?’ Irene felt as if everything was spinning around her and she staggered.

  Jimmy steadied her. ‘I was dreading telling you.’

  ‘When?’ asked Irene hoarsely.

  ‘Shortly after you phoned. She was already in hospital. Alf had told the doctor he couldn’t look after her.’ Jimmy’s voice broke. ‘She … she caught pneumonia an-and that was it!’

  Irene fumbled in her handbag for a handkerchief. ‘I can’t believe it,’ she whispered. ‘I flew here thinking I could look after her. Why couldn’t I have been told earlier that Mam was so ill?’

  ‘She didn’t tell me! If she had, I’d have let you know straight away,’ said Jimmy earnestly.

  ‘We should never have gone away,’ said Irene, her voice shaking, scarcely aware that people were looking at them and they were now first in the queue.

  Jimmy put an arm around her. ‘Here
’s a taxi.’

  She allowed him to help her into the back of the vehicle, tears rolling down her cheeks. She stared out of the window, a handkerchief clutched in her hand as the taxi drove out on to Lord Nelson Street. Everything seemed brighter than usual, larger than life. A man and a woman and a child were standing on the edge of the pavement as the taxi turned the corner into one of the streets that led to London Road. With part of her mind, Irene noticed he was carrying a couple of suitcases. Suddenly she realized the man was Peggy’s brother, Tommy.

  ‘Did you see who that was?’ asked Irene.

  Jimmy looked at her. ‘Where?’

  She waved a hand. ‘Forget it. They’ve gone now.’

  He leaned back and closed his eyes. ‘I had a helluva night. It’ll probably be best if we try and see Mam tomorrow. She could still be in the hospital morgue and you don’t want to be going there.’

  Irene agreed. She was still trying to come to terms with flying all the way to England, only to arrive too late to see her mother alive. ‘Do … do you think he’ll have M-Mam taken back to his house?’

  ‘I don’t know. He said something that makes me wonder whether he’ll have her taken straight to the funeral parlour and leave her there.’

  ‘What was it?’ she asked.

  ‘It wasn’t that long since his first wife died and he thinks it’ll be traumatic for the children to have a coffin in the house. I can see his point.’

  Irene took a deep breath and nodded. ‘What can we do? We no longer have a home of our own.’

  He sighed.

  They both fell silent and did not speak for a while.

  Then Irene glanced out of the window and realized they were travelling along Stanley Road. ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘Nellie Gianelli told me to bring you back to her house.’

  ‘I can’t impose on her!’ cried Irene, sitting bolt upright. ‘She has enough people to look after without having me there, as well.’

  ‘Don’t worry about it. She’ll find you somewhere to bunk down,’ said Jimmy.

  Irene groaned but she could not come up with an alternative. She did find herself wondering about Nellie’s niece, Lucia, and what she thought of Jimmy staying at her aunt’s house. As they were travelling through Bootle, she said, ‘Does Pete’s mother know Mam’s gone?’