A Nest of Singing Birds

by A Nest of Singing Birds (retail) (epub)

  At first the girls had tried to correct her, but Mabel ignored their efforts and they accepted it as one of her little quirks. ‘Shelley was elevated to the Bible this morning,’ one of them would whisper to the other, but they were fond of Mabel and would never hurt her.

  Anne had been to tea again at the Redmond house and this time John was at home. He greeted her pleasantly, seemingly unaware of the length of time since they had last met, and her pride made her take her cue from him. Mrs Redmond talked about Bridie’s babies, whom she had seen the previous day, and asked Anne about her grandmother.

  As usual after tea Anne and Sarah went into the parlour to play records, and soon they were joined by Mick and John, but the conversation was still general. Anne stole a glance at John occasionally, and several times caught him looking intently at her, but each time he looked away quickly.

  Sarah’s young sister Kate came in and offered to do her step dancing to one of the records. She was a pretty girl with fair curly hair and brown eyes, very self-possessed and a good dancer. Anne thought she was vain and cheeky, quite unlike shy Sarah.

  After she had been applauded and had gone out again, Mick announced that he would now demonstrate his Fred Astaire number. He swooped about, holding an imaginary partner, and John said to Anne, ‘You must think my family are cracked.’

  ‘You haven’t met my brothers,’ she laughed. ‘They’re mad, aren’t they, Sarah? Especially Terry. And even our Eileen learned to drive on a two-ton milk lorry.’

  ‘Your sister can drive?’ Mick said, dropping down beside Anne. ‘I’m trying to persuade Dad to buy a car. Your brother’s bought one, hasn’t he?’

  ‘Yes. Our Tony. He’s engaged and they’re saving up to get married, but Helen and him thought it’d be better to buy one now because they’ll have a lot of expenses after they’re married and won’t have Helen’s wages.’

  Mick asked many questions about Tony’s car, none of which Anne could answer. ‘I only know it has four wheels and it goes,’ she said, laughing.

  ‘That’s all you need to know,’ said John. ‘Mick gets all his information off the back of cigarette cards.’

  Sarah had changed the record and was winding the gramophone, and Mick asked Anne to dance. She was surprised by how well he danced, but suspected that Mick did most things well.

  ‘I don’t dance, I’m afraid,’ John said when the record finished and Anne sat down. ‘I’ve just never thought about it.’

  ‘Too busy putting the world to rights,’ said his brother.

  Sarah had pulled out another record. ‘Harry Roy,’ she exclaimed. ‘Come on, Anne. This is a quickstep.’ The two girls danced together, then sat talking about the caelidhes and the characters they met there.

  They were all surprised when Mrs Redmond appeared with a supper tray. ‘Gosh, hasn’t the time gone quickly?’ Sarah said, and Mick added, ‘And not a word about world affairs for once.’

  ‘That’s good,’ Mrs Redmond said. ‘This is the time you should be enjoying yourselves, not bothering your heads about such things.’ She looked at John as she spoke and he looked back at her and smiled. I wish he’d smile at me like that, Anne thought.

  As the weather improved and the days lengthened Anne saw John several times, but usually she was on her bicycle and he was on foot. They exchanged brief greetings but one day he was walking slowly past the end of Magdalen Street as she cycled up. Suddenly bold, she stopped by the kerb and spoke to him, and they were still there half an hour later when Eileen walked through from the tram.

  Anne introduced John and when Eileen moved away, Anne said goodbye to him and walked up the road with her sister, wheeling her bicycle.

  ‘He’s a nice-looking fellow, isn’t he?’ said Eileen. ‘Was he the one who was fighting in Spain?’

  ‘Yes, he was wounded in the foot but it’s healed now.’

  ‘I’d love to do something like that,’ said Eileen. ‘Fellows have all the fun.’

  ‘You don’t do so badly,’ Anne laughed, and Eileen had to agree.

  After that meeting with John, Anne often met him strolling along near her home and always stopped to talk to him. The conversation usually turned to matters that were never mentioned in Anne’s home. Her father was only interested in his family and his business and although he took the Evening Express, only read local news.

  Tony’s interests had been wider at one time, but now his mind was full of plans for his marriage with Helen, and his new car.

  Like most young men of their age, Stephen and Terry were absorbed in sport, particularly football and Everton Football Club.

  John was unlike anyone Anne knew with his views on everything that happened in the world. On Palestine and Ireland and Hitler’s plans for Germany. He seemed to assume that she was as interested in these questions as he was, and she began to read newspapers thoroughly and listen to news broadcasts on the wireless.

  Although Anne had always read voraciously it had been novels and poetry, or volumes of letters and diaries which were her particular favourites. An Irish relative had told her that Ireland was now to be known as Eire but she knew nothing of the reasons for this, or of what was happening in Germany.

  She and Sarah had been indignant and sad to see a picture of Emperor Haile Selassie of Abyssinia on the Pathé News Gazette at the cinema after Mussolini had invaded his country. A tiny dignified man wearing a cloak and headdress, they had thought him both tragic and romantic but had known nothing about the background of the struggle.

  Now John recalled that struggle and told her that the Italians had invaded Abyssinia and taken Addis Ababa with modern weapons, including poison gas, in spite of a declaration by the League of Nations. ‘I’d call the League a toothless tiger, wouldn’t you?’ he said.

  Anne had to admit that she had never called the League a tiger, toothless or otherwise, and had known nothing of it until recently.

  ‘I never knew there was so much going on in the world,’ she said to John one day.

  ‘Very few people do, Anne, and there’s not much information available to ordinary people. That’s why the statesmen can get away with so much,’ he said.

  Anne did not allow her new interest in world affairs to interfere with her enjoyment of life, however, and although John never asked her out many other young men did. She and Sarah tried to arrange their dates for the same evenings, so that for the rest of the week they were free to go out together. Anne never seemed to have a free moment.

  ‘Slow down, child, slow down,’ her mother begged as Anne raced around. ‘Sure you’ll wear yourself out.’

  Tony was teaching Maureen to drive and Anne asked if he would teach her too. ‘Where would you find the time?’ he asked and she had to admit it was impossible.

  ‘You’ll learn quickly when you do have the time,’ Helen said. ‘You won’t be like me.’ Helen had been trying to learn for some time, but she found it very hard although Tony was endlessly patient with her.

  ‘It’s that kangaroo juice he puts in the engine,’ Terry teased her after she had started from outside the house in a series of jumps.

  ‘Ignore him, love. All you need is confidence, and that will come,’ Tony said protectively. Maureen showed an unexpected aptitude for driving and learned very quickly but Helen was not jealous. All the family were very fond of tiny Helen, who was a gentle loving girl. Tony thought she was very like his mother in appearance and character.

  Julia had been free of pain for many months, but still she had grown weaker. Mrs Bennet came to clean four times a week now, and another woman came for the washing, and Julia often wondered how she would have managed without them.

  In the spring of 1938 the old doctor who had attended her died suddenly and a young man took over the practice. Maureen asked him to call to see her mother, and the doctor examined her carefully. ‘You say you have been free of pain for nearly two years?’ he said, when he had finished.

  ‘That’s so, doctor, but you know I have the strange feeling that it
’s still there, biding its time. I can’t seem to get back my strength,’ she said.

  The doctor looked carefully at her fingernails and neck, then said abruptly, ‘I want to admit you to the Royal. They can take an X-ray photograph of you. It would help me to know what was wrong and how to treat you.’

  Julia said nothing for a moment then she said quietly, ‘Thank you, doctor, for the offer, but I don’t think I’ll go in hospital if you don’t mind.’

  ‘It would only be for investigation,’ he said.

  ‘I know, doctor, but you see I’m all this time without pain and I think I’ll let sleeping dogs lie. I’m grand apart from the weakness.’

  The doctor shrugged. ‘I think you’d be wise to go,’ he said. ‘But if that’s how you feel. Promise me that you’ll let me know if the pain returns. I trained at the Royal and I’ll be able to get you a bed immediately.’

  He left after giving instructions that she was to rest as much as possible and drink plenty of milk. Mrs Bennet showed him out and returned with a pint glass full of milk. ‘I think a glass of Guinness would do you more good,’ she said. ‘But you’d better do as he tells you. He seems to have more idea than the ould feller.’

  The wool shop now closed on Wednesday afternoons so often Maureen drove her mother and her Aunt Carrie to visit Theresa, whose baby was due in June, while Anne stayed with Grandma Houlihan. The old lady was becoming more confused, and often failed to recognise Anne but she allowed her to make a meal for her.

  She talked at length, often about people who had died before Anne was born, but she pretended to remember them. At other times Grandma sat silent but apparently happy with her rosary beads slipping through her fingers.

  Anne had hoped to wait outside the coal merchant’s office to see Kathleen, but Wednesday was the only day she was home early enough, and now there was never an opportunity. She was relieved when she and Sarah met Kathleen and Ella in a cinema queue one evening. It was for a Bing Crosby film and Ella said jokingly, ‘We had to come. Kath’s got a pash on Bing.’

  Kathleen blushed and said, ‘And you’ve got one on Ronald Colman.’

  ‘Sarah’s mad about Hugh Williams but mine is Leslie Howard,’ Anne laughed. She pretended to swoon and the four girls laughed and joked together until the queue moved into the cinema.

  Anne was secretly delighted to see Kathleen behaving so normally, and felt that she could stop worrying about her. Maureen had told her that the O’Neills’ neighbour had been in the wool shop and had told her that she was sure they were all mad. ‘She said the scenes in the house are terrible,’ Maureen said. ‘Crashes and bangs and all of them screaming and crying.’ But Anne decided that the woman must be exaggerating.

  Theresa’s son was bom on 28 June 1937 and christened James Frederick, and Carrie said that Fred’s feet had not touched the ground since the child’s birth.

  The baby’s christening was held at Carrie’s house so that Grandma Houlihan was able to hold the baby. She seemed to think that it was her own child and showed signs of distress when Carrie took the baby from her. ‘He’s not dead, is he?’ she whimpered. ‘God help me, I can never rear a lad.’ But fortunately the baby began to cry loudly, and Grandma seemed happy again.

  It was clear that she was very close to death, and Julia began to worry because Minnie had not been informed.

  ‘She is Ma’s daughter, after all, Carrie, and she has a right to know,’ Julia said. ‘And for all we know Ma might realise that she hasn’t been to see her.’

  ‘I doubt it,’ said Carrie, ‘but I suppose you’re right, Julie. She does have a right to know. But when I think of the trouble she’s caused!’

  ‘I know,’ Julia said gently, ‘but maybe she can’t help her bitter nature, and God knows, Carrie, she’s her own worst enemy. Always falling out with people, and her children are no comfort to her.’

  It was decided that Julia should go to see Minnie and escort her to Carrie’s house if she wished to come. Minnie wept when she heard the news and willingly accompanied Julia to see their mother.

  Carrie greeted her coolly but Fred said heartily, ‘That’s right, that’s right. No sense in bearing grudges at a time like this.’ No one replied and Julia took Minnie up to the dying woman.

  Minnie fell on her knees beside the bed, holding her mother’s hands and murmuring, ‘Oh, Ma, it’s me, Minnie.’ Her mother looked at her vacantly for a moment, then she said in a weak voice, ‘My poor girl. God help you. You won’t – won’t—’ Her voice died away and she slipped into sleep again.

  Minnie wept bitterly. ‘She’s the only one in the world who ever cared about me,’ she said, but when Julia protested, Minnie sneered, ‘It’s all right. You don’t have to lie to me. I know the score.’

  Julia ushered her out of the bedroom, afraid the sound of conflict might reach her mother. Carrie offered Minnie a cup of tea, but she refused it. ‘I’ve done what I came for,’ she declared, marching out of the house.

  Grandma lay for a few days drifting in and out of sleep, unaware of everything about her, until one afternoon when Julia and Carrie were sitting with her. She spoke rationally to them and asked about their families, but during the night she died in her sleep.

  ‘Don’t grieve for her,’ the priest said to the family. ‘She would only have grown more confused. Now she’s had a peaceful end and she’s gone to her reward.’

  ‘I wish I’d liked her better,’ Anne said. But Eileen replied reasonably, ‘None of us was keen on her, Anne, but we hid it for Mum’s sake and Grandma never realised it. There’s nothing to regret. You can’t make yourself like someone.’

  Minnie and Dympna were in church for the Requiem Mass, but sat apart from the family. Julia thought that Minnie showed genuine grief, and at the end of the Mass, she spoke to her and Dympna. Fred joined them and urged them to come to the cemetery in the funeral cars.

  Minnie refused, saying that Brendan had provided a car for them, and later she and Dympna appeared at the graveside, again standing apart from the family. As the mourners left, Fred said quietly to Pat, ‘Did you notice those plainclothes coppers?’

  ‘Two big fellows in macs?’ Pat said. ‘I wondered who they were?’

  ‘They were coppers all right,’ Fred said. ‘Probably watching for the quare fellow. I wonder what he’s been up to now?’

  ‘God knows,’ said Pat. ‘But he’ll need to be slippery all right, with coppers and criminals after him.’ They said nothing to the family and no one else had noticed the men.

  Julia’s soft heart had been touched by Minnie’s grief, and she was prepared to be friendly with her, but Carrie was adamant. ‘I want nothing more to do with her,’ she said. ‘I tolerated her while Ma was alive to keep the peace for Ma’s sake, except for the past few months, but no more. You do what you like, Julia, but I’ve had enough of her.’

  ‘But it’s a terrible thing to be out of friends with your own flesh and blood,’ Julia mourned. ‘And it’s a sin too, Carrie. Didn’t Our Lord say that he would forgive us as we forgave others?’

  ‘I don’t think it’s a sin to be at odds with Minnie,’ Carrie declared. ‘Not when I think of the trouble she’s caused, and she’d cause more if she got the chance.’

  ‘But she’ll miss Ma. She said only Ma ever cared about her.’

  ‘And whose fault is that?’ said Carrie. ‘The number of times we’ve made it up with her after falling out because of her trouble making, and in no time she’s been at it again. Carrying tales and making nasty remarks. No, I’m sorry, Julia, I want no more to do with her, sister or not.’

  She looked flushed and angry, and Julia said no more. She knew that despite her fury, Carrie would be the first to offer help to Minnie if she needed it.

  Now that she was not restricted by nursing her mother, Carrie was free to travel to West Derby as often as she wished to see her grandchild. Sometimes Julia accompanied her, and as they travelled home one day Carrie said thoughtfully, ‘You know I never wished Ma dead, Julie, b
ut I’ve got to admit her death came at the right time for me. I’m able to see James every day, either at our house or Theresa’s, and these first months are precious, aren’t they?’

  ‘They are indeed,’ Julia agreed. ‘And you did your duty to Ma, and more. You and Fred have nothing to reproach yourselves with. You deserve the joy of your grandchild.’

  Anne still met John Redmond occasionally, and tried to keep up with world affairs so that she could hold her own when talking to him. He puzzled her. She felt it was not just chance that they met so often near her home, yet he only talked about what was happening in other parts of the world, never of people they knew or of his feelings towards her. Perhaps I’ve tried to be too clever, she thought, reading up world affairs, and he thinks that’s all I want to talk about.

  Often as they talked he kept his gaze on her face, looking into her eyes, and as she stood with her hands on the handlebars of her bicycle his hand often covered hers as though by accident. At times Anne felt sure that he was attracted to her, but if so why did he never ask to meet her, and why did he conceal these chance meetings from his family?

  It was obvious that Sarah knew nothing of them, and Anne was too proud to tell her. If he’s ashamed to tell his family, I’m not going to, she thought. Sarah told her that John had secured a job in an hotel but had been sacked after a few days.

  ‘It was the same when he got that job on a building site and was sacked after a few days, although they said there was nothing wrong with his work. He thinks he’s on some sort of blacklist because he was in the International Brigade.’

  Anne shrugged. ‘Perhaps he is,’ she said with assumed indifference. She was hurt that John had said nothing to her about it, and decided that she would avoid him in future. He can find someone else to lecture about Sudetenland Germans and Czechoslovakia and all that, she thought angrily. I’ll stick to fellows who talk about ordinary things.