Tony was furious. ‘Why do parents always think the teacher’s right?’ he said angrily. ‘That damn woman knew she’d gone too far, that’s why she sent that note – to cover herself in case Mum complained. The bitch!’
They asked Anne what had actually happened and Tony told her that she had been quite right to protest. ‘It wasn’t fair to punish the whole class like that, and I’m glad you had the courage to say so,’ he said, but Maureen looked at him warningly.
‘But you mustn’t stand up and say so in front of the whole class, love,’ she said. ‘Just say it to her quietly at her desk, then she can’t say you’re being cheeky.’
Tony was about to protest but he looked at Maureen and smiled, acknowledging her calm good sense.
Anne was given a note by her mother to take to the teacher the following day, and Miss Derby read it and smiled at her. ‘Very well, we’ll say no more about it,’ she said graciously. ‘It was quite out of character for you, Anne.’
She went quietly to her desk, thinking cynically that Tony was right. The teacher had looked relieved.
The incident seemed to bring Kathleen out of her shell a little and now she sometimes walked about with Anne in the playground. She still refused to join in any of the boisterous games played by the other girls, saying that her mother would be vexed if her clothes got dirty. Anne suspected she was afraid to show any sign that she played with others, disobeying her mother’s orders, but said nothing to Kathleen.
Girls who lived near her had told Anne that she never played out after school and neither did her brother. They went out with their mother but the three O’Neills were never seen apart.
Gradually Kathleen became more and more friendly with Anne during school hours and listened wistfully when her friend talked about her family. She told Anne that her mother had told her that she and Cormac had Royal blood and were descended from the Kings of Ireland.
She knew a great deal about Irish history and told Anne that her mother read aloud stories about Queen Maeve and Deidre of the Sorrows and of the great Hugh O’Neill, Earl of Tyrone. ‘He was a brave man but he was defeated at the Battle of Kinsale and driven from Ireland,’ Kathleen said. ‘That’s why we live in England now.’
Anne thought it was all very romantic, and felt rather ashamed of her own humdrum family, but Kathleen told her that the Fitzgeralds were also noble Irish. ‘Norman Irish,’ she corrected herself. ‘They were very powerful and at the beginning of the sixteenth century they were known as the House of Kildare.’ Anne was very pleased to hear it.
Although so friendly during school hours, Kathleen was still met at the gates by her mother and never dared to show any sign of friendship with Anne before her.
Anne told Maureen about Kathleen and her sister advised her to be friendly with Kathleen but not to speak to her while her mother was there. ‘You might get her into trouble,’ she said.
‘Why, what’s wrong with me?’ Anne asked indignantly but Maureen said that Mrs O’Neill had strange ideas.
‘I know,’ Anne said. ‘She says they have Royal blood and are descended from the Kings of Ireland but it doesn’t mean they can’t make friends, does it?’
‘It does as far as Mrs O’Neill is concerned,’ Maureen said. ‘One of her neighbours comes in the wool shop and she says Mrs O’Neill won’t let the children mix at all. She calls them her king and her queen and they only go out when they go out with her. Mind you, she’s a good mother. She works her fingers to the bone so that they go short of nothing, Mrs Williams said.’
Miss Derby had noticed the friendship developing between Anne and Kathleen too. ‘I’m very pleased that you have become friendly with Kathleen O’Neill, Anne,’ she said graciously.
Anne looked down at the ground and said nothing and the teacher walked away. Anne still had not forgiven her for sending the note to her parents and Tony kept her resentment alive by asking: ‘How’s the bitch, Anne?’
‘Still bitching,’ she said one day, feeling very daring. Tony laughed but warned her not to let their parents hear her using the expression and it became a small private joke between them.
When Anne was a young child she loved all her family indiscriminately but as she grew older she began to see them as individuals. She realised that she and Joe and Maureen not only resembled their mother in appearance but were like her in character. Tony, Stephen, Eileen and Terry were like their father, tall and well built, with brown eyes and thick curly dark hair.
At first she thought they were all extroverts like their father too, but gradually Anne realised that though Tony was big and boisterous and made friends easily there were times when he was quiet and withdrawn.
Tony’s glooms, the family called them, but no one was aware of the reason for these moods of melancholy and silence which seemed to descend on him. He would watch his mother anxiously, especially when she talked in a low voice to Joe, and try to cheer her if she seemed sad.
Life had never been the same for Julia since Patrick’s death. Often she seemed to retreat into a world of her own. Then Tony would bring her a small treat like some sweets, or would put out a stool for her feet. Although Julia always rewarded him with a vague smile it was clear that her thoughts were far away and she was not really aware of Tony. No one connected these times with his dark moods. He had once heard his Aunt Minnie say: ‘Patrick’s death destroyed Julia. You’d have thought the baby would have consoled her, Tony was only six months at the time, but she just wasn’t interested in him. Of course he was just like his father over again. It was only when Joe was born, the image of Patrick, that she got over his death and Joe’s her favourite still.’
Tony had never forgotten these words. He was usually happy and cheerful but these thoughts were like a dark current beneath the surface. He felt that he had never been loved as much as the rest of the family, especially as like many eldest sons he often clashed with his father.
He loved Joe and would have indignantly denied that he was jealous of him, but even his private little jokes with Anne had only happened since her beloved Joe had gone away.
There was nothing complex about Stephen or Terry. They were typical boys, mad on football and both given to sudden enthusiasms for fishing or swimming or other sports. Both preferred the company of other boys and regarded girls, and sisters particularly, as a nuisance although they were always kind to Anne.
She was fond of Eileen but at this stage in their lives they had little in common. Eileen was a big, boisterous girl, good at any kind of sport, but did not share Anne’s love of books as Maureen and Joe did.
The difference in their ages and interests caused divisions between the Fitzgerald family which would close as they grew older, but there was still a strong bond of love between them. For Pat and Julia their children were a comfort and consolation in the troubles which now beset them.
Chapter Five
After the Wall Street Crash in America there was even more hardship and distress in Liverpool and many firms were forced to close down. Pat Fitzgerald managed to keep his building firm going, mostly with repairs and small jobs which he would not have taken in better times.
When it was clear to him that the business was not simply going through a bad patch but that he was fighting for survival, he called the men together and told them.
‘You know we’re just hand to mouth with the jobs now, lads,’ he said. ‘We’ve got the repairs to the houses in Beelow Street, and after that, God knows. I tried hard for that funeral parlour job and for anything with the Corporation but no luck so far. We couldn’t have gone this far if we weren’t all pulling together, you lads taking a cut in wages and me taking next to nothing. I’ll try and keep you all on, lads, because you’ve stuck by me, but if you get a chance somewhere else – well, I’ve told you how things are. I wouldn’t stand in your way, but I’d be glad to see you back if things pick up.’
He stepped down, mopping his forehead, visibly upset. Billy Joyce the foreman looked round the men then stepped forw
ard.
‘I reckon we’ll all sink or swim together, boss,’ he said. ‘We’re all keeping our eyes open and some fella on the wireless said things are going to get better.’
‘I hope he’s right,’ said Pat. ‘Thanks, lads.’ He wiped his handkerchief over his face again, and turned away.
It was true that Pat was taking as little as possible from the firm, and while he worried about the business Julia’s worries were the day to day ones of keeping her family clothed and fed on little money. Fortunately no one seemed to notice the economies. If bread and jam replaced more ample meals it was still sufficient for their hearty appetites and they knew that jam butties were the staple diet of many of their friends.
Maureen could make a small contribution from her wages, and Tony and Stephen earned their own pocket money so Julia felt that they were more fortunate than most families.
Even though she and Pat sometimes spent sleepless nights, worrying about the business and the future, they managed to conceal their worries from the family.
In addition to their cut in wages Pat’s workmen had agreed to take only one day off instead of two, and he decided to forgo his usual three days altogether.
Fred Anderson’s business was not affected by the slump. His most profitable work was for the luxury trade and although there was so much distress in Liverpool there was wealth too. The ‘carriage trade’ still shopped in Bold Street and rich women could be seen followed by chauffeurs or ladies’ maids with their arms full of parcels, or else sitting regally in their cars while obsequious shopkeepers took their orders.
The leather desk fittings made by Fred had suddenly become very fashionable and he had difficulty in keeping up with the demand.
Grandma Houlihan was still living with Carrie and Fred. Her broken leg had healed but she walked with a limp and needed a stick. She spent much of her time in her own room and the Fitzgerald children were often sent to visit her. A visitor from the church had left her a small book entitled The Lives of the Saints and Anne was sent to read aloud from it to her grandma.
‘Why can’t she read it herself?’ she said rebelliously one night when she had to go to the Andersons’ and wanted to visit the cinema instead.
‘Because Grandma can barely write her own name and she can’t read,’ her mother said. ‘Not everyone has had your advantages, remember. Grandma was brought up on a farm in Ireland where it was just work from the time they got up until they went to bed. No time for schooling or any pleasure.’
Anne went more willingly to read to her grandma after hearing that. Imagine not being able to read! It was true that there were not many books in her own home but all the family were able to read. Since Joe had gone away there was no one who shared her own deep love of books.
Maureen read mostly romantic novels and her mother read magazines from the church such as The Messenger of the Sacred Heart or The Far East. Her father and the rest of the family read magazines and newspapers but rarely a book. Anne had never thought of this before and suddenly realised how much she took for granted.
When she was ten she brought home the application forms which her parents had to sign before she could enter for a scholarship, which would enable her to attend a Grammar School.
‘Do you want to go in for this?’ her father asked doubtfully. ‘You’re happy enough where you are, aren’t you, queen?’ Anne nodded. She was not sure whether she wanted to enter for the scholarship or not. Sister Assumpta had sent for her and told her that she had a good chance of passing the examination, and it would open up a whole new world for her, but as her father said she was perfectly happy at her present school. On the other hand, she was tempted by the prospect of spending more time on the subjects she enjoyed and of wearing the Grammar School uniform.
Her parents discussed it further when she had gone to bed. Forms were only sent to the parents when the teachers considered that a pupil had some chance of passing the examination and only Joe had previously brought them home.
‘The same thing applies to Anne as it did to Joe,’ Pat said. ‘We don’t want her mixing with different people instead of being where her brothers and sisters are there to look after her.’
‘It wasn’t so much that Joe couldn’t look after himself,’ Julia said. ‘It was more that we didn’t want him drawn away from the family, and that we didn’t want to do for one what we hadn’t done for the others.’
Pat agreed but said, ‘That’s another thing. All the others have done well at the parish school and been satisfied there. I don’t want to make flesh of one and fowl of another. I like to keep them all equal.’
‘I’ve sometimes thought though, Pat,’ said Julia, ‘if Joe had gone to College, he might have got a decent job and not had to go away.’ But Pat disagreed.
‘There’s plenty of College lads walking the streets looking for jobs. I think we’ll leave her where she is. It’s a waste of time for a girl anyway. She’ll only go off and get married.’
‘And Eileen’s got that nice little job without any scholarship or anything,’ Julia said. The forms were returned with a polite refusal and Anne heard no more of the matter.
Eileen’s ‘nice little job’ was in the office of the engineering firm where Tony worked. He had heard of the vacancy and she had immediately applied and been successful.
Julia thanked God daily that all her children were working when she saw the queues of young people wherever a job was advertised and the dispirited crowds at the Labour Exchanges.
There were plenty of books in the Misses Dolan’s house next door and Anne was often allowed to borrow them. The old ladies thought that she should have tried for the scholarship.
‘Education is never wasted, dear,’ Miss Louisa said. ‘I know it is only an extra two years but you would have received a smattering of knowledge of various subjects, enough to have encouraged you to seek further knowledge.’
‘Dad thinks it’s not important for a girl,’ Anne said. Miss Louisa’s face grew red and Miss Ellen said quickly, ‘Louisa thinks that girls have as much right to an education as men. She was much cleverer than our brothers but our dear father sent them away to public school and kept us at home.’
‘That was all a long time ago, Ellen,’ Miss Louisa said repressively. ‘You must foster your love of books, Anne. A world of knowledge can be found between the covers of a book. Why don’t you join the Public Lending Library? You’re very welcome to borrow any of our books but you will find many more there.’
Anne found that a girl in her class belonged to the Kensington Library and she went with her on Saturday morning to join. It looked very imposing to Anne with the lamps at either side and the wide flight of steps leading to the door. Inscribed in the stone above the door were the words: ‘Reading maketh a full man.’ She stood gazing at them for so long that Sadie pulled her arm impatiently. ‘Come on,’ she said. ‘It’ll be closed before we ever go in.’
Anne spent the rest of the day curled up on a chair in the parlour weeping or smiling as she read Little Women and Anne of Green Gables. Her mother exclaimed at her red eyes when she called her to eat her meals and do the messages and other jobs, which Anne did in a daze.
‘It was the Dolans who told her to join the Library,’ Julia told Pat. ‘I was talking to Ellen this morning. They think she should have gone in for the scholarship. Perhaps we should have let her, Pat.’
‘What do they know about it, a pair of old maids?’ he said scornfully. ‘No, we did the right thing, girl. A feller was telling me there’s a lot of expense with it even if they get the scholarship and this isn’t the time for anything like that, the way things are.’
‘I suppose so,’ Julia said. ‘Miss Ellen was really chatty this morning. She was on her own because her sister’s twisted her ankle. She said her sister thinks that it’s wrong that only rich people can send their sons to university. She says poor boys should be able to go there if they’re clever enough.’
‘Easy said,’ Pat said. ‘Where’s the money to come
from? I suppose she never thought of that. Women!’
‘It’s a funny thing,’ Julia mused. ‘I know they’ve come down in the world and they haven’t got two ha’pennies to knock together but no one ever calls them anything but Miss Dolan or Miss Ellen and Miss Louisa. You’ve got to respect them.’
‘Aye, it’s not like them to meddle,’ Pat said. But Anne was very glad that they had.
The new world which Sister Assumpta had spoken about now lay for her on the shelves of Kensington Library and she was a frequent visitor there. She also went more frequently to visit the Misses Dolan and talk about books with them. Louisa taught her to write in the copperplate handwriting that she had been taught and Anne began to get comments like ‘Handwriting excellent’ on her essays. But no one asked her why it had improved so much.
She still went to read to her grandmother and tried to introduce different books but Grandma Houlihan never tired of The Lives of the Saints.
She was still in excellent health despite her spartan lifestyle but Grandma Fitzgerald was now unable to rise from her bed. She was as cheerful as ever and was devotedly nursed by Bridie. Many of their neighbours were pleased to be able to repay past acts of kindness by Bridie and her mother by helping them now.
All the Fitzgerald family frequently and willingly visited Grandma Fitzgerald and Bridie and Pat and Julia and their children did all they could to make life easier for them.
There was great sorrow for all who knew her when Grandma Fitzgerald died peacefully in the spring of 1931. Bridie, who had been so tireless, always ready day or night to minister to her mother, suddenly collapsed. She lay in her bed sleeping, waking only to weep bitterly then sleep again.
‘Nature taking over,’ the doctor told Pat. ‘She’s managed to keep going while her mother needed her but it’s taken its toll. She’ll be all right. She’s a brave woman.’
Pat made all the funeral arrangements and on the day Bridie welcomed the mourners with great dignity. The previous day Julia had gently persuaded her to get up and dress and had gone with her to choose mourning clothes. ‘Ma always said mourning clothes didn’t matter,’ Bridie told Julia. ‘But I’ll feel better in black.’
A Nest of Singing Birds Page 6
