A Nest of Singing Birds

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

  Gerry was in bed and Anne sat at one side of the fire knitting while John sat opposite her, reading a newspaper. Her eyes were heavy with tiredness. It was impossible to relax for a moment while Gerry was awake and that day he had not slept at all.

  She tried to concentrate on what John was saying and make sensible replies but she felt too tired and sleepy. ‘Coal is a resource anyway,’ John was saying, ‘it belongs to the nation and should be used for the benefit of everyone.’

  He began to read aloud from the newspaper but the next thing Anne knew he was putting a cup of tea beside her.

  ‘Oh, John, I must have fallen asleep,’ she said remorsefully. ‘I’m sorry, love. I suppose it’s the warmth of the fire and then Gerry’s been a little fiend today. Into one thing after another.’

  John crouched down beside her and put his arms about her. ‘And then you have to listen to me going on,’ he said. ‘That’s really what sent you to sleep.’

  ‘It wasn’t,’ she protested. ‘Honestly, John, I am interested but I’m just so tired.’

  ‘I know, love,’ he said. ‘Gerry’s one body’s work, as Grandma would say. I’m just so thrilled about all that’s happening now – all the things we hoped for coming true at last. Makes me think about Grandad.’

  Anne smiled and kissed him then John said suddenly, ‘Your tea! Typical. I bring you a cup of tea and talk until it goes cold. I’ll get you a fresh one.’

  He went out whistling and Anne looked lovingly after him. She felt so happy these days that she was almost afraid that it was all too good to last. The tiffs with John rarely happened now and they had not had one where he had gone ‘walkabout’ since Christmas.

  It had probably been just a settling down time as they adjusted to each other after the war, Anne thought optimistically, and everything would be perfect from now on.

  In May Sarah’s baby was bom and brought joy to all the family. She had booked into the Maternity Hospital so only Joe was allowed to visit but he brought enthusiastic reports of how wonderful the baby was and how well Sarah looked.

  She was discharged after ten days and everyone was delighted with the baby. He was small but perfect, with dark hair and eyes, like a tiny miniature of Joe.

  ‘You got your wish, Sarah,’ Anne said when she saw the baby. ‘He’s the image of Joe.’

  ‘Yes, and of your brother who died,’ Sarah said, ‘and of you and Maureen. I hope he grows up like you.’

  Anne kissed her impulsively. ‘With parents like you and Joe he’s bound to be happy anyway.’

  ‘We’ve decided to add Patrick to his name,’ Sarah said. ‘You don’t think it’ll be too much of a mouthful? David Joseph Patrick Fitzgerald?’

  ‘No, I think it’s nice,’ Anne said. ‘I’ll bet Dad’s pleased.’

  ‘Yes, he was,’ said Sarah. ‘He brought the photograph of Patrick and held it by David and the likeness was uncanny except that David can’t smile yet.’ She drew back the shawl in which the baby was wrapped and smiled at him lovingly.

  The next moment they heard voices and Sarah’s mother and grandmother came into the room. ‘We were at the shops and couldn’t resist coming for another look,’ Cathy Redmond said. Anne had been holding the baby. She handed him to Cathy and Sally Ward produced a lollipop for Gerry. ‘What do you think of your little cousin?’ she said but he was more interested in the lollipop.

  ‘I’ve just been telling Anne about adding Patrick to his name,’ Sarah said. ‘She likes the idea, don’t you, Anne?’

  ‘Yes. You know Patrick was only six when he died, about eleven years before I was bom, but he always seemed very real to me. His photograph on the dresser was one of the earliest things I remember and Dad always mentioned him in the family prayers.’

  ‘I think we’ll start family prayers when David’s old enough,’ Sarah remarked.

  ‘Ours at home stopped when everyone was scattered with the war,’ Anne said. She laughed. ‘No point in us starting them. John’s rushing off to meetings so often or he’s late home.’

  ‘He doesn’t work late, does he?’ Cathy said.

  ‘No, he gets involved listening to speakers at the Pier Head or the Catholic Evidence Guild on the bombed site of Lewis’s.’

  ‘John listening! That doesn’t sound like him,’ Sally said dryly and Anne laughed.

  ‘He does get involved sometimes,’ she admitted. ‘He was in an argument last week with one of the hecklers but the Evidence Guild man told him to leave it to them. He said they can discuss reasonably without losing their tempers. John told me he hadn’t lost his temper, he was just trying to convince the man.’

  ‘I can imagine! Like a tank rolling over him,’ Sally said. They all laughed but Anne was glad when Cathy changed the subject by saying that Peggy Burns had told her that Lewis’s was to be rebuilt. Lord Woolton would announce it. ‘If Peggy says so it’s true,’ Sally said.‘I don’t know where she gets her information but she’s always right.’

  Joe came in carrying a pile of books and papers which he put down and went to kiss Sarah. ‘I found I could do this at home,’ he explained. ‘How do you feel, love?’

  ‘Fine,’ she said. ‘And David’s been as good as gold.’

  Joe greeted Sarah’s mother and grandmother and Anne. ‘What do you think of his extra name?’ he asked as Cathy handed the baby to him. They all agreed that they liked it and Cathy said, ‘Mick says the initials should look good on a briefcase.’

  ‘Trust Mick,’ Sarah said. ‘How are you getting on with the telephone, Grandma?’

  Mick had arranged for the telephone to be installed to keep him in touch with the family but Sally was nervous about using it.

  ‘I’m getting used to it,’ she said now. ‘And it is useful. He’ll be able to tell us what time he’ll be home at the weekend.’

  The baby’s baptism was to take place on the following Sunday and Anne and John were to be his godparents. Mick was coming home for it and Maureen had made a christening cake and helped Sarah to organise a small family party after the baptism.

  On Saturday Mick arrived home and came up to visit Anne and John. He brought a large coloured ball and some toy cars for Gerry, a bottle of perfume for Anne and a box of one hundred cigarettes for John.

  ‘I went over to Paris a few weeks ago,’ he explained casually.

  ‘Your business must be doing well,’ Anne said.

  ‘It’s booming, Anne. We can’t believe it, the way the money’s rolling in. Neil, y’know, my partner, has bought a pre-war Daimler. Smashing car but it guzzles up the petrol ration. I’ve got my name down for a new car but there’s none to be had yet.’

  ‘You think plastics is the thing to be in then?’ asked John.

  ‘Well, that’s what we’ve found,’ Mick said cheerfully. ‘We took a chance and it’s paid off. As Neil says, nobody ever made a fortune working for someone else.’

  Maureen had invited Chris Murray to the baptism, the first time that he had attended a family party, and Anne felt that she should explain about him to Mick.

  ‘He’s married but his wife’s been an invalid for years,’ she said. ‘Maureen and him have been friends for ages but…’

  ‘Platonic friends,’ Mick interrupted. ‘We used to hear a lot about platonic friendship before the war, didn’t we?’

  ‘I’m not quite sure what it means,’ Anne confessed.

  ‘Just friendship between a man and a woman,’ Mick said airily. ‘Good idea really. If they’re not free to marry they can still have a companion for going to the pictures or dancing or whatever. Do you get out together much?’

  ‘Not often,’ Anne admitted. ‘A friend of mine, a girl I meet in the clinic, sits with Gerry sometimes while we go to the pictures, and I do the same for her.’

  ‘We’re quite happy to stay in, aren’t we, Anne?’ John said. ‘With the garden and things to do in the house and so forth.’ She smiled and agreed, too proud to remind him while Mick was there how often she stayed in alone while he was out at mee
tings.

  Later when Mick had gone John said thoughtfully, ‘I don’t think he thinks much of me as a husband. That crack about us going out.’

  ‘I don’t think it was a crack,’ Anne said. ‘He was only asking.’

  ‘Hmm. He gave me an earful when he was at home at Christmas, y’know. When I went down on my own on the Sunday morning to see him off, after I had a bit of a row with Peggy Burns on the Saturday night.’

  ‘You never told me!’ Anne exclaimed.

  John shrugged. ‘Well, he was going on about you chiefly. Said I’d upset you and I wasn’t being fair to you when I went for a walk after a row to think things over. Going walkabout, he called it! Be a man and stand your ground, he said. Supposed to be a joke but I think he meant it.’

  He looked so indignant that Anne burst out laughing. ‘He’s a case, isn’t he? But I like your Mick. I can imagine him getting up to some of the tricks I’ve heard about, but I think it might have been that he was curious about things and more advanced than people realised.’

  ‘He’s clever all right,’ John said. ‘He could run rings round everybody at the college, but d’you know they discovered he has a photographic memory? He can look at a page of writing and remember everything on it.’

  ‘Gosh, I hope Gerry inherits that from him,’ Anne exclaimed. She was smiling as they cleared up and prepared for bed. So that was why John had stopped going walkabout, she thought, chuckling to herself as she thought of Mick lecturing him.

  The christening was a happy occasion and Joe’s family in particular were pleased at the choice of names. Patrick’s photograph had been cleaned up and re-framed after being damaged in the bombing and Maureen had put it in a prominent position near the christening cake.

  ‘We’ve got the name Patrick in three generations now, Dad,’ she said to her father who was sitting in his armchair with the baby on his knee.

  They had all been out into the big backyard while Mick took photographs with a German camera he had acquired. He took a family group, then Sarah and Joe with the baby, then one with Anne and John with them, and finally one of Anne and John as godparents with the baby.

  Anne held the baby and John slipped his arm round her and smiled down at her. During the rest of the day he stayed close to Anne, helping her to food and including her in every conversation he had. He’s trying to show Mick what a good husband he is, she thought, inwardly amused.

  Gerry had hurled himself at Moira as soon as he saw her and now the two children played together, watched over by Helen and Tony. Moira was nearly old enough to start school but Helen’s hopes of another baby were still unfulfilled.

  Suddenly, as the children played, Gerry slipped and banged his head. He began to roar and instantly John snatched him up and said angrily to Moira, ‘Be more careful. He’s only a baby.’ Moira had her mother’s gentle nature and shrank back at his fury while Tony, as angry as John, jumped to his feet.

  Before anything else could be said or done, John’s grandmother appeared and gave Moira a piece of chocolate and one to Gerry, who instantly ceased his roaring. John mumbled, ‘Sorry,’ looking shamefaced, and carried Gerry to Anne.

  Sally said quietly, ‘That soon shut Gerry up, didn’t it? He’s like his father, all noise.’

  Helen smiled and Sally said to Moira, ‘That’s a pretty dress, love. Did Mummy make it?’

  Moira looked at her mother and Helen said, ‘No, I bought it. I’m afraid I’m hopeless at sewing.’

  ‘It’s very pretty and well made anyway,’ Sally said.

  Tony had still looked angry, even after John’s apology, but Helen laid her hand on his and now he smiled at Sally. ‘Do you miss Everton, Mrs Ward?’ he asked.

  ‘I miss it as it was,’ she said. ‘But it’s all so changed now and so many people gone from it. We’re very happy in the new house.’

  ‘Anne said it’s a lovely bright house,’ Helen said and Sally agreed.

  Someone came to claim her and when she moved away Tony said, ‘She was very quick and very tactful, wasn’t she? I nearly punched John then.’

  ‘I was annoyed myself,’ Helen said. ‘But I think he’s just hotheaded. He doesn’t stop to think.’

  ‘He’d better learn to curb his tongue,’ Tony said but he had always been good friends with John and added tolerantly, ‘He’s just crazy about Gerry, that’s all.’

  Anne was fortunately unaware of the incident. She had taken plates through to the scullery, and although she heard Gerry’s cries, by the time she returned to the kitchen John was carrying him towards her. Gerry’s roars had stopped and he was eating a piece of chocolate.

  ‘What happened?’ she asked.

  ‘He banged his head and Grandma gave him chocolate,’ John said and Anne sat Gerry on her knee and resumed her conversation with Maureen.

  After a few minutes John took Gerry into the yard. Anne looked at Joe, who was sitting cradling his baby in his arms and gazing adoringly into its face. Is he going to be like John is with Gerry? she wondered. She was just wondering whether she should warn Joe not to shut Sarah out when he lifted his head and looked at Sarah and she looked back at him, such love in their eyes that it seemed almost as though they touched.

  I’ll save my breath, Anne thought, feeling a pang of envy, quickly dismissed. John and I are happy too, she told herself. Circumstances were just different for us with Gerry, that’s all.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Anne had replied to the letter from Kathleen O’Neill, or Kilmartin as she was now, and since then they had exchanged several letters and snapshots. Kathleen sent a snapshot of herself and her husband and her nine-month-old son at the gate of a pretty cottage.

  Anne was pleased to see that Kathleen looked well and happy. Her husband was a tall, thin man wearing glasses and a pleasant expression and the baby was a bonny little boy.

  ‘I didn’t expect Arthur to look like that,’ Anne said to John. ‘He doesn’t look like a farmworker, does he?’

  ‘He looks like a man of principle, the type who would be a conscientious objector,’ John said. ‘He seems to like the farm work, though, according to that letter.’

  ‘I’d like to see her,’ Anne said, ‘but it’s too far to travel while we’ve both got young children. I’m glad she’s happy at last, though.’

  Anne had sent a snapshot of herself and John with Gerry and news of their families and old school friends. She was surprised when Kathleen wrote: ‘So your dream came true too, Anne. I remember you “carried a torch” for John Redmond even in the days when I knew you.’ And I thought no one knew how I felt about him, Anne thought ruefully.

  She still went to Everton at least once a week to shop and to visit her family and Sarah came often to visit her. David was a good baby and slept in Gerry’s outgrown pram while the girls sat in the back garden.

  John had laid out the garden with a grass plot surrounded by a narrow border near the house and the rest of the space given over to vegetables. Gerry played on the grass as they talked and Anne said one day, ‘I think I’ll have to give up gardening until Gerry’s older.’

  ‘But I thought you liked it,’ Sarah said.

  ‘I do. At first I sort of looked after the flowers and John the veg but he’s more or less taken over the front garden now.’

  ‘It does look lovely, the front garden.’

  ‘Yes. Much better than when I was doing it,’ Anne said cheerfully. ‘You see, if I was working in it, people would stop to talk and I’d leave the weeding to chat to them. If anyone stops to talk to John he just says “How do” and goes on with what he’s doing. And the garden’s a sort of showpiece for him being the chairman of the gardening club.’

  ‘How’s the club going?’ Sarah asked.

  ‘Oh, thriving. They’ve got the use of a room in the parish hall now there’s so many of them. John’s gardening before he goes to work very often, because he’s out at night, and I get up at the same time and get my washing done.’

  ‘But couldn’t you
have this part of the back garden for yourself?’ said Sarah.

  ‘I do,’ Anne said, laughing. ‘That’s why I say I’ll have to give up. Gerry pulls the plants up to see what’s at the other end. All these pleasures in store for you, Sarah!’ But she only smiled.

  Stan Johnson had introduced a five-day week for his employees and Anne and John took advantage of the Friday night finish to spend a weekend in a boarding house in Llandudno.

  The weather was perfect and Gerry was delighted with the sand and the amusements. Anne and John enjoyed the weekend but when they were on the train returning home he suggested that they could have enjoyed it at home just as much.

  ‘We could have taken Gerry to the shore at New Brighton or Crosby and still slept in our own bed.’

  ‘But I’d still have to plan and cook the meals,’ she objected. ‘And clean up at home.’

  ‘Yes, but I could help with all that,’ he said airily. And Anne thought, Yes, if you weren’t out in the garden or talking to a fellow who’d called to see you – but she said nothing.

  In July Theresa’s baby was bom, a daughter whom she named Ciara after her mother. ‘But I thought Aunt Carrie’s name was Caroline,’ Anne said when Theresa told her. Theresa laughed. ‘Could you imagine Grandma Houlihan picking a name like Caroline?’ she said. ‘Mum’s name is Ciara Majella, after St Gerard Majella would you believe? My baby’s going to get the proper name though – Ciara.’

  ‘I know Mum’s name was Julia but what about Aunt Minnie’s? Do you know?’ asked Anne.

  Theresa laughed again. ‘Wait for it,’ she said. ‘Mary Magdalen! Talk about inappropriate!’

  ‘Moaning Minnie suited her better,’ Anne said.

  A party was to be held at Fred and Carrie’s house after Ciara’s christening and Anne looked forward to it with mixed feelings. What would happen with John this time? she wondered.