Live the Dream (38 page)

She must have done it right, because now the big woman was smiling from ear to ear. 'Report to Sister Charlotte in the laundry. Right away now, off you go. Down those steps and into the cellar wit you.' Pointing to the door at the end of the hallway, she half turned, but then as Daisy was about to open the door, she called her back. 'Daisy?'

'Yes, Mother Superior?' Daisy was convinced it was a test. She was wrong, though.

'You have a scar, do you not?' The nun had been told of Daisy's problem, and though she thought it a heavy burden for a young woman to carry, she considered it her duty to make sure the burden was not a crippling one. After all, Daisy had come here for help, and help she would get.

Daisy was momentarily taken aback by the question, but then she realised that Nurse Rita must have given that as part of the reason why she needed to be here. 'Yes, Mother Superior,' she answered. 'I was in a fire.'

'Does the scar bother you?'

Daisy hesitated. 'Sometimes.'

'What was that you said?' The voice was sharp and reprimanding.

'Sorry,
Mother Superior.
No. It doesn't bother me—at least, not all the time.'

'That's no good, child. You mustn't let it bother you
at all.
Sure the Good Lord gives us only what we can deal wit and no more. Learn to be strong. Can you do that?'

Daisy nodded.I'll try, Mother Superior.'

Mother Superior nodded. 'So you will. So you will!' And that said, she ambled away, to good-naturedly torment some other poor unsuspecting soul.

On her way down the narrow, spiralling stone steps to the laundry, Daisy thought about the Mother Superior. 'That one would frighten the devil himself,' she muttered. Then she began to smile. The smile became a chuckle, and then a hearty laugh.

One thing was certain, Daisy told herself. If you needed a lesson in life, then this was the place to visit. Somehow, it put everything into perspective.

'I swear to God, I've never seen a man so changed.' Having popped into the shop on his way home, old Ted Fogarty raised the subject of Luke Hammond with Marie and Maureen. 'By! That poor devil must have been through hell and back, with all that's gone on. Working night and day, they say, trying to get the business up and running again, with nowt to sell and no vans to deliver it if he had.'

Marie agreed. 'It seems unfair that one man should have had so much of a burden.' She glanced at Maureen, who was sweeping up the cabbage leaves where they'd fallen from the crates. 'Drop 'em into a bag,' she suggested. 'Young Johnny can run 'em down to the Barnes' house. They've been given a floppy-eared rabbit, an' it's got the appetite of a full-grown donkey!'

'Yer right, Marie.' Ted was still preoccupied with Luke Hammond's situation. 'It's a bad thing. I thank the Good Lord it ain't resting on
my
shoulders, I can tell yer that for nuthin'!'

Marie gave him his wad of baccy. 'That'll be threepence,' she said, holding out her hand.

Ted rummaged about in his purse. 'First his wife is beaten up and left damaged beyond repair, and then his factory burns down. It's a terrible, shocking thing!'

Marie still had her hand out, waiting for his loose change, but her thoughts were elsewhere. 'I wonder what Luke Hammond will do now?'

Ted slapped a handful of coins into her palm. 'Sort that lot out, will yer, lass?' he said. 'I can't see a damned thing wi'out me specs.'

While Marie sorted out his loose change he addressed Maureen, who had now come to collect a batch of brown paper bags from beneath the counter. 'Yer seem to have settled down really well, lass,' he remarked. 'No doubt you'll be staying for good now, eh?'

Maureen smiled. 'I hope so,' she answered, pulling out the thick band of bags. The and Johnny are more than content living in Derwent Street. Besides, Johnny starts school soon, so it looks like you're stuck with us.' Also Amy had heard Ma Tooley was looking to fill Daisy's old job at the cafe, and had mentioned Maureen to the old lady with some trepidation. Mrs Tooley had employed her straight away, saying she'd always wanted to have 'a more mature person' working for her.

'Aye,' Ted grinned his gummy grin, 'an' you're stuck with us, an' all.' The grin became a frown. 'All the same, it's a wonder all this awful business ain't made you want to run a mile.'

Maureen quickly dismissed his fears. 'This is our home now. But you're right in what you just said about Mr Hammond. He really has been through a bad time.'

She thought of her Arnie, likely to remain in gaol for some years yet. Funny that—Maureen realised she was able to accept that her husband was fully responsible for his violent temper and that he was being justly punished for it. She seldom visited the prison these days. She had deliberately distanced herself from his influence and the bullying she suffered even when he was behind bars, with his suicide threats and his whinging. Now, living alone with her beloved son, surrounded by friends, working hard and gaining in confidence, she could at last see Arnold Stratton for what he was—a thug and a bully; a man who liked to have power over women. So let him rot in gaol. She was better off without him, and so was Johnny.

Maureen looked around the crowded little shop where less than a year ago she had been welcomed so kindly by Amy and Marie, who she had grown to love so much. No, she would not be moving on. This really was home at last.

Marie took Ted's baccy money and returned his change. 'Stop trying to frighten her away,' she said with a friendly wag of the finger.

'Aw, I wouldn't do that,' he replied. 'She's a grand lass, is Mrs Langdon.'

After he'd gone, Marie served a young woman who'd come in as Ted left and then went to help Maureen collect the cabbage leaves.

When she saw how quiet Maureen had gone, she blamed it on Ted Fogarty. 'You don't want to let him upset you with his alarmist talk,' she said. You know what he's like: one minute he's flirting, and the next he's putting the world to rights.'

But Maureen was thinking of Arnie, and the bad things he had done, so when she didn't respond, Marie put on her brightest smile, and changed the subject. 'Why don't you and little Johnny come round to us tonight?' she suggested. 'I'll mek us a nice tea. As you already know, our Amy's gone with Nurse Rita today, so she might have more news of Daisy. Jack will be here, and Roy too. It'll be like a little party. What d'you say?'

After what old Ted had got her thinking, Maureen didn't feel like being amongst company. 'Thank you, Marie, it's really kind of you,' she answered graciously, 'only I thought I might take Johnny up the park, to feed the ducks before it gets dark.'

'Aw, that's all right.' Marie dropped the last cabbage leaf into the bag. 'You two go and enjoy yourselves. I'll cook plenty of everything, though,' she decided. 'That way, if you change your mind, you'll not go short on food.'

A few minutes later, Maureen and Johnny were ready to leave. 'Has Mrs Tooley offered you more hours yet?' Marie held her back for a minute or two.

'Not yet,' Maureen answered, 'but I reckon she will, 'cause the other girl she's taken on is absolutely useless—or so Mrs Tooley keeps telling me, in between giving me a detailed rundown on her latest romance.' She chuckled, but not unkindly. 'I tell you, Marie, it makes me curl up, the way she goes on about her randy old sweetheart, and how she has to fight him off.'

They laughed at that. 'But you have to give her credit,' Marie said. 'Old Ma Tooley is one of a kind. Here she is, sixty-eight years old if she's a day; running a business, and still keeping the men interested.'

Maureen agreed. 'There aren't many young 'uns that could manage that,' she declared, 'never mind a woman her age.'

'And are you happy working there?'

'Yes, and I've got Amy to thank,' Maureen answered. 'If she hadn't gone to see Ma Tooley, I would never have got the work. But now, what with you giving me a few hours, and then the extra hours at Tooley's Cafe, I'm managing all right.'

She took hold of Johnny's hand and made her way to the door. 'We'd best be off now. Give my regards to Amy, and tell her I hope everything's all right with Daisy. If I don't come round tonight, I'll see you both tomorrow.'

Smiling to herself at the idea of Ma Tooley and her aged sweetheart, Marie locked the shop door while she got herself a sandwich.

When she opened up again, Amy still wasn't home. And, with Maureen and the boy gone, the little shop seemed uncomfortably quiet. It had been a real blessing the day Maureen and Johnny had first come to the shop. Marie now couldn't imagine life without the reticent and private young mother and her gentle little boy.

It was three thirty when Amy arrived at the infirmary to meet Nurse Rita. 'I don't know how to thank you for getting Daisy to see me,' she said gratefully.

'It wasn't too difficult this time,' the older woman answered. 'She seems ready to see you now.' She gave a wry little smile. 'Maybe I won't need to take letters backwards and forwards between you now, eh?'

Amy was excited at the prospect of seeing Daisy at long last. 'When can we go?'

'In about five minutes. My shift is finished, so if we don't get an emergency before I get my hat and coat, we can be off out the door, and you'll be seeing Daisy in about half an hour, if my reckoning is right.'

As it turned out her reckoning was spot on.

They came out of the building, caught a tram to Mill Hill to the south-west of Blackburn town centre, and from there they boarded a bus, which took them out of town and on towards Lytham St Annes. Halfway there, they disembarked.

'The convent is just five minutes' walk from here,' Nurse Rita said. 'Hopefully, once we arrive, they'll offer us a nice hot cup of tea and a scone.'

The narrow, meandering path up to the door of the convent was lined with early daffodils and as the visitors climbed, the way got prettier and narrower, and so steep that Amy wondered if they were climbing all the way up to Heaven.

Mother Superior's round red face greeted them with a smile. A younger nun, who was introduced as Sister Mary, hovered behind her. 'Ah! Will ye look at the two of youse, frozen to the bone, and stomachs rumbling, no doubt? Come in wit ye before ye freeze on the doorstep.'

Ushering them inside she introduced herself to Amy.

'I'll have scones and tea sent to you and your friend,' she told her, then addressing herself to Nurse Rita, she invited cheerfully, 'You can come along wit me.'

Knowing the heavy work burden carried by Mother Superior, Nurse Rita gracefully declined. 'Thank you, that's very kind, but I don't mind waiting out here…or I could go and have a word with the girls in the laundry, if that's all right with you?'

Mother Superior wouldn't hear of it. 'You'll do no such ting! Wit all the charity work you do on our behalf and all the kindness you've shown to the poor wretches who find their way through these doors, don't ye tink ye deserve to rest your weary feet?' She looked Rita up and down. 'Come straight from the infirmary, have ye?'

'More or less.'

'Ah, well!' Mother Superior's smile was a joy to see. 'There ye are then! Will ye come and sit wit me, and we'll have a little chat, so we will?' She gave the cheekiest wink. 'D'ye know what I'm thinking?' She lowered her voice. 'Sure I'm th inking…I might even have a little red wine, left over from a crisis we had last week.'

She summoned Sister Mary to accompany Amy to the dayroom and, taking Nurse Rita by the arm, she marched her unceremoniously to her office. 'Sure I'll not take no for an answer.'

As they went from the hallway, Sister Mary gave Amy a knowing wink. 'Mother Superior likes to keep a little wine locked away,' she said with a chuckle, 'for emergencies and bad weather, or so she says.' She gave another, heartier chuckle. 'And if you believe that, you'll believe anything!'

Amy had to stop herself from laughing out loud. She thought Sister Mary was delightful. As a matter of fact she thought she wouldn't mind spending a day or two in this lovely place herself, it was so amiable.

It was also a beautiful, calming place as she observed when following Sister Mary along the corridors. Amy had never seen such beauty. The walls were panelled in richly carved walnut, and above them the ceilings dripped with beautiful work by ancient artists. The daylight shone in through the many stained-glass windows, to illuminate the magnificent creations embedded in the glass: sun-rays and stars and Biblical figures, bathed in all the colours of the rainbow.

Beneath Amy and Sister Mary's feet the wood-blocked floors were lovingly polished, and as they walked along, the sound of their footsteps seemed to sing out in a peculiar, rhythmic melody.

'Ah! Here we are.' Swinging round the corner, Sister Mary pushed open the heavy wooden door. 'Daisy, here's your friend to see you.'

Thin and waif-like, Daisy was curled up on the window- seat, her gaze focused on the gardener as he went about his pruning. She didn't look up or speak, and made no move towards them.

Sister Mary had seen it all before and understood. 'Go to her, child,' she whispered in Amy's ear. 'If you need me, I'll be right next door, catching up on my paperwork. First door on the left as you leave this room.'

When Amy turned to thank her, she was gone, with the door still swinging shut.

Nervous, Amy ventured forward, her mind in chaos at the sight of Daisy looking so forlorn. Had she done right in coming here? Was it fair to force herself on Daisy before she was ready? And was she being selfish in wanting Daisy to hear of her engagement, and expecting her to be a part of the wedding celebrations? All the doubts began to flood in. But mostly, she desperately needed to know that Daisy was going to be all right, that she was stronger now, and more able to deal with things.

'Daisy?' Her voice sounded thin and weak, like that of a tiny child, while her heart was beating fifteen to the dozen. She felt she had to leave, yet she needed to stay. For Daisy's sake she needed to be here, to help, and comfort. And so she continued across the room. 'Daisy?'

Daisy hardly moved a muscle. Instead, she kept her gaze averted, watching the gardener as he wheeled his barrow over the stony ground.