‘Not until the tenth,’ said Anne. ‘But I should have known when I got the urge to clean.’
‘I wish you’d warned me then,’ he said. ‘I would have come straight home.’
‘The tenth was only an approximate date anyway,’ she said sharply. ‘And I didn’t realise it was going to happen so soon or I wouldn’t have been in such a panic.’
The bell had gone for the end of visiting and John kissed her. ‘Never mind, love. I’m not blaming you.’
Big of you, Anne muttered to herself as he turned away but as he began to walk out she called him back.
‘The baby,’ she said. ‘Say goodbye to the baby.’ John glanced in the cot. ‘She’s asleep,’ he said and with a smile and a wave he departed.
Anne was left fuming and that night and during the following day she felt unsettled and the baby was unusually cross. Anne was pleased that John’s grandmother came with him at visiting time.
They had decided to call the baby Laura Anne and Sally was pleased. ‘I think she’s got a look of Lawrie,’ she said.
‘She’s very good but she’s been a bit cross today. I think that was my fault, though. I got worked up about something last night.’
‘Aye, that could upset her. You won’t have to let things worry you while you’re feeding her. Just let them pass over you,’ Sally said.
She smiled but before Anne could speak, John said, ‘And even when you’re not. I know you don’t often quarrel with people, Anne, but you have a bad habit of brooding on some fancied grievance.’
‘Thanks very much!’ she exclaimed, her face growing red with anger. ‘Now should I tell you some of your faults?’
John sighed. ‘You see. You resent even a mild comment like that. I was only saying it for your own good.’
‘Yes, and for your own good, you’d better shut your mouth,’ Sally said. ‘You were behind the door when tact was given out, that’s for sure.’
‘But I was only—’ he spluttered.
‘Yes, we know,’ Sally interrupted. ‘Go and see the sister. I want to talk to Anne.’
He went off obediently and Sally handed a handkerchief to Anne. ‘Don’t cry, girl,’ she said. ‘You’ll only upset yourself and your baby.’
Anne dried her eyes. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I shouldn’t have flown at him like that while you were here.’
‘I’d have thought less of you if you’d let him get away with it,’ Sally said. ‘He’s a good lad really, Anne, but he never thinks before he speaks. He’d go to hell and back for you, girl, you know that, but he just opens his mouth too wide.’
‘But to say a thing like that!’ Anne said. ‘You’d think after him being out when I needed him, he’d be keeping quiet about my faults. Of course, he thinks that was my fault too.’
‘Your fault!’ Sally exclaimed.
‘Yes. I said I should have known I was near my time when I felt like cleaning and he said, all big-hearted, that he didn’t blame me!’
Sally sighed and shook her head. ‘I could shake him,’ she said. ‘I tell you, love, he was really upset about that. His dad was furious and they had a real row about it. John stood up to him but afterwards with his mam he cried about the way he’d let you down. Now I haven’t known him do that since he was a little lad so don’t ever tell him I told you.’
‘I won’t,’ she murmured, almost speechless with amazement. ‘Cathy was really upset but she said to me, “Anne’s a good girl. She won’t hold it against him. She knows it was only a mistake.” And I’m sure you won’t, girl, will you?’ said Sally.
‘No,’ Anne said, feeling more warmly towards John as she thought of him weeping with remorse.
‘And just think, girl, he wasn’t out gallivanting or drinking that night,’ Sally said. ‘And when he puts his foot in his mouth, remember, actions speak louder than words.’
‘Yes, he’s been very good while I’ve been expecting,’ she said. ‘He shops with me on Saturday afternoons so I don’t have to carry anything heavy during the week and he’s done a lot round the house too.’
She saw John hovering at the end of the ward and smiled at him. He came up to the bed and told them that the sister had said that mother and baby were doing well. ‘She said the baby lost three ounces but she’s gained again and now she’s two ounces over her birth weight.’
‘Did she say when I can come home?’ Anne asked eagerly.
‘She said if you go on like this the doctor will let you come home in ten days.’
‘But that’s Friday,’ Anne exclaimed and Sally warned her, ‘Don’t get excited now, girl, and send your temperature up. Gerry’ll be made up to see you, anyway.’
‘I took him on the Overhead Railway yesterday,’ John said. ‘Then down to the Pier Head. You should have seen him on the floating roadway. He thought we could run right down and on to the boat we could see at the bottom.’
‘We’ll have to take him on the ferry when I come home.’
‘I took him yesterday,’ said John. ‘Only over to Seacombe and back, but he loved it. I told him about Grandad going to sea and showed him the shipping in the river.’
No more was said about the quarrel, and even when Sally left them alone for a few minutes, Anne only spoke about returning home and John said how much he missed her and that Gerry missed her too.
Anne had greatly missed Gerry and they had a joyful reunion when she returned home. He was delighted with the baby. ‘Is it ours, Mummy? Can we keep it?’ he asked anxiously. He hung over the baby’s wicker cot, chattering endlessly while Laura lay looking up at him with bright dark eyes.
Anne had continued to correspond with Kathleen and it had been arranged that she and her husband and son would come to visit. They came in November which was a slack time on the farm where Arthur Kilmartin worked.
All the family contributed items to make the third bedroom warm and comfortable for Kathleen and Arthur. John’s parents sent two large rugs, an oil heater for background warmth and a spare wardrobe. From Anne’s old home came the double bed which she had once shared with Eileen (as she now had a single bed), a bedspread and eiderdown and a Lloyd Loom chair.
Aunt Carrie contributed a dressing table and a pair of sheets and Anne put Gerry’s outgrown cot in beside the bed for the child.
John had grumbled about having to miss a meeting on the evening that the visitors arrived but soon after they all met learned that Arthur was a member of the Peace Pledge Union. He was delighted and the two men were soon deep in conversation.
Meanwhile, Anne and Kathleen were catching up on their news and the two children surveyed each other warily, with Gerry standing protectively before Laura’s cot.
Arthur was a tall, ascetic-looking man wearing rimless spectacles. He was a few years older than Kathleen and had a quiet voice though he was not afraid to voice his opinions. Anne was amused to see John look discomforted when Arthur told him that he was surprised to find that John as a Peace Pledge Member had joined the armed forces.
‘I wasn’t a member then,’ John said and Anne added jokingly, ‘Someone said he couldn’t join the army so he was absolutely determined he would.’
‘You make me sound an awkward cuss,’ John muttered.
Kathleen and Arthur were tired after their long journey so they went to bed early. As soon as they were safely upstairs John said angrily, ‘What was the idea of saying that about the army? Were you trying to make me look a fool?’
‘It was only a joke, for heaven’s sake,’ Anne protested.
‘It wasn’t my idea of a joke. You tried to make me look small. You made Arthur uncomfortable too.’
‘I’m sure I…’ she began but John roughly interrupted her, ‘Never mind. Forget it. I don’t want to discuss it.’
‘Then why did you…?’ Anne started but again John interrupted her. ‘I said I don’t want to discuss it. I don’t want to hear another word.’
He had been winding the clock and now banged it back on the mantelpiece, ‘I want to discuss i
t,’ Anne said but he said loudly, ‘No. That’s enough. I’m going up. Goodnight.’
She was left fuming, and even when she had completed her preparations for the morning and was ready for bed, still raged inwardly. He starts something but won’t wait for an answer, she thought. Everything always has to be on his terms. But she was very tired and soon fell asleep.
Because they had visitors, Anne was unable to keep up the quarrel with John and he seemed unaware how angry he had made her. All right for him, Anne thought, he said his piece and refused to let me give him an answer. But she was anxious to give Kathleen a good impression of her marriage so pushed her grievance to the back of her mind.
Greg had fitted bookcases on either side of the sitting-room fire and Anne lit the fire there every day during the visit so, although John was at work, Arthur was quite happy browsing among the books.
Anne and Kathleen could talk freely in the kitchen, while Laura slept and Gerry and Kathleen’s child, Ben, played together happily.
Kathleen wanted to know all about Anne’s family and was intrigued to learn what had happened when Terry returned home from prison camp. Anne showed her photographs that he had sent from Canada. ‘He was homesick at first, I think,’ she said, ‘but he seems to be settling down now. My cousins Des and Dom Anderson are thinking of joining him.’
‘The terrible twins?’ Kathleen said, laughing. ‘Do you think Canada can stand it?’
‘I don’t know how Aunt Carrie’ll stand it,’ Anne said seriously. ‘Or Uncle Fred. He relies on Des in his workshop and I think he was hoping he’d take over. But Dom’s unsettled and where he goes Des will go.’
‘At least we’ve got years before we need to worry about anything like that,’ Kathleen said, glancing at the two little boys.
As the week progressed the two girls grew closer and Kathleen told Anne more about her unhappy years before she was admitted to hospital with the shrapnel injury.
‘It’s a good thing I didn’t realise just how strange it all was,’ she told Anne. ‘I suppose I was caught up in it too. Ella saved me. I think she was sorry for me and was so determined to get me out on my own, away from the closed circle with Mother and Cormac.’
‘I’m ashamed that I didn’t do more to keep in touch,’ Anne said.
‘You couldn’t have done anything, Anne. In fact when I look back it was really the teacher getting me the job that saved me. Mother needed the money for Cormac’s clothes, otherwise she wouldn’t have allowed it, but I was always less important to her.’
‘A good thing you were as it turned out,’ Anne observed.
‘Yes, and of course I worked with Ella all day and she opened up my mind. Poor Ella. When I think of what happened to her, I feel guilty.’
‘Why?’ Anne asked.
‘Did you know she was attacked?’ Kathleen asked. ‘I don’t know whether it was Mother or Cormac but it was one of them.’
‘But another girl was attacked and the police got the man,’ Anne said.
‘Yes, for the other girl, but they knew someone in our house attacked Ella. They haunted the house, Anne, but Mother swore that Cormac was at home with her all the time. They asked the neighbours and they said we never went out separately.’
Anne was silent, partly with amazement and partly because she was uncertain what to say. Before she could decide, Kathleen went on, ‘Poor Cormac. His mind was warped, you know, Anne, with Mother’s delusions. She should be pitied too though.’
‘She worked terribly hard, didn’t she?’
Kathleen sighed. ‘Yes. She regarded herself as a bondwoman and us of Royal blood. She felt it was her duty to work and provide for us but we mustn’t soil our hands. Especially Cormac.’
‘And he accepted that situation?’
‘Yes. That’s why the call-up papers were such a shock to him and—’
‘So that was why he did it?’
‘Committed suicide,’ said Kathleen. ‘Yes. Some official had been to see him. I don’t know what he said. Perhaps he told Cormac what to expect. I’ll never know. I was in hospital, and Mother was at work, and the man won’t admit that he frightened Cormac, will he?’
‘God forgive him if he did,’ Anne said and Kathleen said fiercely, ‘God damn him, I say. I hope he rots in hell. I’ll never forgive him.’ Anne was alarmed to see a fanatical expression on her face which reminded her of Mrs O’Neill but the next moment it had gone and Kathleen said easily, ‘All long ago and far away now, isn’t it? Mother only lived six months after Cormac.’
‘Have you kept in touch with Ella?’ Anne asked.
‘Yes. You know she got married soon after she came out of hospital. One of the detectives actually, but they split up soon afterwards.’
‘But you still see her?’ Anne said.
‘Oh, no, and I don’t want to,’ Kathleen said. ‘I mean, she must know what the police thought, but she wrote to me when I was in hospital and I replied. We send only Christmas and birthday cards now. She’s living in London.’
They were interrupted by the children and Anne was not sorry. Kathleen’s past was not mentioned again but Anne often thought about it. So she had been right after all to suspect Cormac or his mother of attacking Ella. Perhaps I was lucky that I didn’t get too involved, she thought.
The rest of the week passed quickly and pleasantly and John seemed to enjoy Arthur’s company. He also enjoyed showing Gerry off to the visitors. Ben was only a year younger than Gerry but was much less articulate and intelligent and John constantly urged Gerry to recite nursery rhymes or sing the little songs that Anne had taught him.
She was pleased when one day Gerry refused to sing, saying, ‘No. I want to play with Ben.’
She said quickly, ‘Ben’s teaching him how to tie his shoelaces. I don’t know how often I’ve tried but Gerry seems to have got the hang of it at last from Ben. Perhaps he will be a teacher.’
‘He’s certainly very patient,’ Arthur said, looking pleased.
‘I didn’t know Gerry couldn’t tie laces,’ John said, ‘or—’
But Anne interrupted him. ‘Who dressed him while I was in hospital?’
‘Mum, I suppose, or Grandma,’ John said. ‘Except Sunday. I dressed him on Sundays.’
‘And I suppose you tied his shoelaces?’
‘Maybe. I don’t see that it matters,’ John said.
‘Not then, but the more he can do for himself the better now that I have Laura to look after,’ Anne said. ‘And when he starts school he’ll need to be able to tie his own shoelaces.’
John said no more then, but later when the children were in bed, Arthur and Kathleen talked of their hopes for another child. ‘More if possible,’ Arthur said. ‘I was an only child and sometimes very lonely. I had to fulfil all the ambitions of my mother and my father too.’
‘I had a brother, of course,’ Kathleen said. ‘But the less said about my childhood the better.’
‘You weren’t as fortunate as Anne then,’ John said. ‘The spoiled youngest of a large family.’
‘I wouldn’t say I was spoiled,’ Anne said indignantly but John hooted with laughter.
‘Not spoiled?’ he said. ‘Why, they wouldn’t let the wind blow on you. Not only your parents but all your brothers and sisters protected you too.’
Anne felt near to tears with anger and distress at John’s jeering tone but she swallowed and said quietly, ‘I hope you’re able to have more children, Kath. Helen and Tony can’t, unfortunately, but there’s a reason for that.’ She avoided even looking at John, feeling that he was being spiteful because of the earlier disagreement.
Kathleen disregarded her words and spoke directly to John. ‘Yes, I remember Anne at school. She was always the teacher’s pet because her elder sisters had gone through the school before her and been such angels, it seemed.’ She looked at Anne. ‘Then you brought so much money for the Good Shepherd Fund and flowers for the May altar.’
‘But that was because Mum supported the missions and Tony and
Maureen gave me money for flowers when they were working,’ Anne protested.
‘Exactly,’ Kathleen said triumphantly, ‘because you were the youngest and still at school while they were working. And in the playground… The way I was treated but no one dared to touch you! Everyone had to be friendly with you because they were afraid of your Eileen. She watched over you even though she was in the other playground.’
Anne was tempted to reply that Kathleen’s isolation in the playground was her own choice but she had been taught never to be rude to a guest so she rose to her feet. ‘Excuse me. I’ll put the kettle on,’ she said.
The walls of the house were thin and as she stood in the kitchen Anne heard Arthur say, ‘It’s only an accident of birth that Anne’s the youngest in her family and I don’t know why you say she’s spoiled, John. Anyone less sweet-natured would have raged at you and Kathleen when you said things like that about her.’
Anne’s hurt feelings were soothed but she heard John reply, ‘Yes, but it’s a fact, Arthur, Anne has always been shielded by her family from any unpleasantness and they all still dote on her. She’s been very lucky.’
‘I think Anne would be happy whatever her circumstances,’ Arthur said and she heard John reply cheerfully, ‘I’m sure she would. My grandma says Anne has a gift for happiness.’
The next moment he came into the kitchen, offering to carry the tray, and Anne was able to smile lovingly at him. I’m just too touchy, she thought as she followed him into the living room. I’ll have to watch it.
Kathleen too seemed unaware of upsetting Anne and talked about her shock at seeing so many empty spaces in Everton where houses had stood before the Blitz.
‘Whole streets gone without a trace,’ she said. ‘I just couldn’t believe my eyes.’
‘Never mind, dear, you laid a few ghosts today,’ Arthur said, taking her hand.
The following day Kathleen spoke again about Anne’s childhood. ‘I remember you telling me that your uncle called you Happy Annie. I thought it would be strange if you weren’t happy with a childhood like yours. I suppose even then I realised that there was something wrong with mine, although I couldn’t recognise what it was.’
A Nest of Singing Birds Page 44
