A Girl Can Dream (3 page)

‘It’s how many men deal with things,’ May told her when they met in the yard as Meg was bringing in the washing. ‘I often think that it is women who are the copers in this world. A man loses his wife and goes to pieces, and yet if a woman loses her man she will roll up her sleeves and work to feed and clothe her children and get on with it without moaning much. Now your father has lost the love of his life, so don’t expect him to just get over it as you will have to.’

In the light of May’s words, Meg was patient with her father when she woke him to have his dinner, and she bit her lip when he sat at the table bleary-eyed and complaining that the food wasn’t a patch on what Maeve would put before him. Meg had been too busy to make anything more than a scratch meal using the meat and vegetables intended for the previous day, and was stung by the criticism.

However, to prevent herself either flying into a rage or dissolving in tears, Meg told her father about her visit to see the baby.

‘Ruth is definitely going to make it now,’ she said. ‘So that’s good news.’

‘Is it?’

‘Oh, Dad, of course it is.’ Meg insisted. ‘She will be able to come home when she is over five pounds in weight. I can’t wait for that.’

‘Don’t see why,’ Sally said.

‘Why do you say that, Sally?’ Meg said. ‘I thought you liked babies.’

‘I do,’ Sally maintained. ‘But not this one, not Ruth.’

‘Why on earth don’t you like our own baby?’

‘’Cos if she hadn’t been born, our mommy would still be alive,’ Sally said.

Meg was astounded. Sally was only seven years old and Meg wondered if she had overheard the others talking about it. ‘Is this how you all feel?’ she asked, glaring at them all around the table; she knew by the uncomfortable glances they exchanged with one another that they did.

‘You can count me in as well,’ Charlie said. ‘Don’t expect me to get excited over a baby that robbed me of my wife.’

‘How can you blame one small helpless baby for Mom’s death?’ Meg cried, patience with her father gone. ‘The truth is, Mom shouldn’t have been expecting at all, and the fact that she was can’t be laid at little Ruth’s door. I take it you won’t be going to see her?’

She was met by a wall of silence. ‘All right then,’ she screamed. ‘Have it your way, but I will visit every day until the time I can bring Ruth home. And when that time comes, she is never to feel any sign of this resentment. And that goes for you all,’ she added, looking at each one of the children in turn.

The children looked aghast, waiting for their father’s reaction, but he didn’t respond. Meanwhile Meg felt such misery envelop her that she knew if she stayed in the house a minute longer, she would burst into floods of tears. She strode purposefully to the door, stepped into the street and shut it behind her with a resounding and very satisfying slam.

She had no plan of where she wanted to go. She felt all churned up inside and so she set off for Calthorpe Park, where she walked alongside the Heath, passing the bandstand where the brass bands played on Sundays. She could see boys having a kick-about with a football on the far side, and a couple of families packing up after a picnic. It was a peaceful scene and began to soothe Meg’s bruised soul.

Courting couples arm in arm were strolling along the banks of the river Rea, which were overhung with weeping willows, or walking under the canopy of trees by Pershore Road. And the bees taking in the last of the sun busily buzzed amongst the flowerbeds, which were a riot of colour. Meg gave a sigh that was almost one of contentment.

She strolled all over the park, drinking in the peace and tranquillity, taking her time, so that the sun was beginning to sink below the horizon when she turned for home. It was quiet when she went in and all the pots and pans, she saw, had been washed, dried and put away. Only Terry was up, reading a comic.

‘Where is everyone?’

‘Jenny, Sally and Billy are in bed.’

‘And Daddy?’

Terry’s eyes met Meg’s and she burst out, ‘He has gone back to the Swan, hasn’t he?’

Terry shrugged. ‘S’pose. He said he was going to see Uncle Robert.’

‘And that’s where the two of them will make for,’ Meg said grimly. ‘May said men often deal with loss by drinking too much, though I can’t for the life of me see what good it does. I hope Dad gets a grip on himself soon.’

‘And me,’ Terry said gloomily.

‘Did you just stay up to wait for me?’

‘And to say sorry,’ Terry said. ‘Maybe Mom shouldn’t have had this baby, but I know a bit of how babies are made and once you are having one, it’s too late then to wish you weren’t. But I got to thinking that the baby hasn’t had any say in it either, has she?’

‘No,’ Meg said. ‘And that was the point I was trying to make.’

‘I know,’ Terry said. ‘I should have had more sense, and I will try and make the others feel the same before she comes home.’

‘Oh, Terry, that’s great,’ Meg cried, for she was very fond of her twelve-year-old brother and had been disappointed with his initial reaction. ‘It will be a poor welcome for Ruth to come to a house where no one wants her.’

‘I got to thinking that too after you left,’ Terry said. ‘Anyway, I’m sorry for upsetting you.’

‘None of us is thinking straight since Mom died,’ Meg said. ‘Concentrating on the baby helps me, because it’s something positive.’

‘Here’s something else positive,’ Terry said. ‘Though maybe not so pleasant.’

‘What?’

‘A telegram was delivered while you were out,’ Terry told Meg. ‘Mom’s parents are coming for the funeral.’

When she finally met them, Meg didn’t care for either of her maternal grandparents one bit. Sarah Mulligan was a small woman, but a stout one. Her face was the colour of putty, and so creased and wrinkled it reminded Meg of a dried-up old prune. The wrinkles didn’t hide her thin tight lips, though, or her blue eyes that looked so cold that shivers ran down Meg’s back.

Conversely, everything about Maeve’s father, Liam Mulligan, was oversize. He was a tall man, and beefy, with enormous shoulders, a very large stomach and hands twice the size of her own father’s. He had an exceedingly red face with rheumy brown eyes and slack, bulbous lips.

However, it wasn’t just how they looked that Meg found off-putting, it was also their manner. They expressed no sorrow at the loss of a daughter, nor any sympathy for the family. They gave the children scant attention and little affection, but they were very quick to find fault and Meg found them very unwelcome guests.

On the morning of the funeral, all the Halletts – even Billy – were dressed in black. Meg’s long dark brown hair was up in a chignon, which Miss Carmichael had shown her how to do when she was going to the interview at Lewis’s and it had immediately had made her appear older and given her confidence – she thought she needed both qualities that day. The sun shone from cornflower-blue skies, though it seemed a mockery for the day to be such a bright one when their spirits were so low. The children’s aunts and uncles and grandparents had already gone to the church, and it was just the Hallett family left to walk together, Meg leading the way and her father bringing up the rear, as they walked along Bell Barn Road and down Bristol Passage on to Bristol Street, where St Catherine’s Church stood. All those not attending the Requiem Mass stood at their doorways in respectful silence and watched them pass.

The church was packed and Meg told herself she shouldn’t be so surprised, for her mother had been very popular, but it still warmed her heart to see so many there, including Miss Carmichael and the doctor standing at the back.

The Requiem Mass was a long one, but none of the children fidgeted or whispered together. Even Billy seemed awed by the solemnity of it all. And after it, as they began the short walk to Key Hill Cemetery in Hockley, where Maeve was to be buried, Meg caught hold of Billy’s hand. His very shiny eyes grew bigger when, after the murmured prayers around the graveside, the coffin that Meg had told him housed his mother was gently lowered into the prepared hole. The lump in his throat threatened to choke him as his father stepped forward and threw a clod of earth on top of the coffin.
Thud.
That seemed to Billy to bring home the fact that his mother really was dead. One by one the family threw a handful of earth onto the coffin.

‘You don’t have to do it, Billy,’ Meg told him kindly.

‘I want to.’ Billy shook his head emphatically and, dropping Meg’s hand, he stepped forward boldly. People started to cry afresh as the small boy took a handful of earth, but Billy didn’t cry till the clod hit the coffin. Then the enormity of it all seemed to get to him, the realisation that his mother was dead and gone, and he ran back to Meg and buried his face in her skirt as tears threatened to overwhelm him.

Charlie, too, felt stricken as he watched his children step forward one by one. Unbeknownst to Meg, the Mulligans had offered to take Billy and Sally back with them to what they said was a much better life in Irish countryside, and he had been very tempted,. They painted a powerful picture of the idyllic life the children would have and Liam Mulligan promised that Billy would inherit the farm one day if he took to the work. Charlie felt he couldn’t just dismiss the offer out of hand, but looking at the kids now, they were so lost and vulnerable. They were his children, he realised; they only had the one parent now. The children needed time to grieve for their mother; surely they could do that better in familiar surroundings with people that loved them.

He suddenly peeled Billy from Meg, lifted him into his arms and, carrying him like that, led the way to the Swan, where Paddy Larkin had given him the use of the back room. Rosie and her daughters had worked very hard to put on a good spread for the mourners, and Meg was immensely grateful to them as she took her place beside her father.

As tea and beer flowed, and neighbours got chatting, Charlie drew Meg into the corridor and closed the door against the noise.

‘Are you all right, Dad?’

‘Child, it will be many years before I am all right,’ Charlie told his daughter. ‘Indeed it might never happen.’ He gave a sigh and went on, ‘But I wanted to talk to you.’

‘Talk away then,’ Meg said.

‘It’s about the children,’ Charlie said, and he told her what Liam and Sally Mulligan had suggested, Meg gasped for it was just the very thing her mother said to guard against. Charlie hadn’t noticed her reaction and went on. ‘I know you don’t like Maeve’s parents and you want to keep us all together, but would it be selfish of us to keep Billy and Sally here when they can offer them a much better life in Ireland?’

Meg took a deep breath. She knew she had to remain calm and rational. He was clearly genuinely asking her opinion, so she had to push down her desire to tell him that she could see cruel malevolence in her grandmother’s gimlet eyes, and how much she hated her grandfather’s coarseness and belligerence, particularly when he had a drink in him. The thought of either Billy or Sally being beaten by that hulk didn’t bear thinking about. And there was also the promise she had made to her mother. But it was more than that: she knew the only way for them all to get over their loss was to stay together, so that they could offer support to one another.

She chose her words with care. ‘If I had to choose between health and happiness, I think I would choose happiness every time,’ she said. ‘Mom said she was desperately unhappy at home.’

Charlie nodded. ‘I remember. But I suppose people can change.’

‘Not those two,’ Meg declared determinedly.

‘So you don’t think they should be given this chance?’ Charlie asked her seriously.

Meg shook her head. ‘If you send them away I won’t be able to keep the promise I made to Mom and that will distress me greatly. But, more importantly, I think both Billy and Sally will be desperately sad.’

Charlie still looked hesitant and Meg took his arm. ‘Come on, Dad. Their place, the place for all of us, is in the bosom of the family where we are loved and understood.’

Meg saw with a measure of relief that her words had hit home as her father nodded his head. ‘You’re right. I think you are right.’ The image of his young ones standing by their mother’s coffin came into his mind again. ‘I don’t want to send the two young children away like that, however healthy it is. Their place is here – and more especially now, but have you no qualms at all about how you will cope?’

Meg put her hand on his arm. ‘Dad, I’ll never be another Mom, but I will do my best, and when I make mistakes I’ll learn from them. I know this is what Mom wanted above anything else, and that helps.’

‘Right,’ Charlie said, squaring his shoulders. ‘I am away back into the room and will tell Maeve’s parents that the children won’t be going with them.’

‘That’s the spirit, Daddy,’ Meg said, and she smiled with relief as she followed her father.

No one felt particularly easy until the Mulligans had left. Charlie ran to the expense of a taxi to take them to the station as their train was leaving very early in the morning. But still the whole family got up to see them off, or, as Terry said, to make sure they really went. As Meg watched the taxi drive down the road she felt the sudden desire to dance a jig.

Terry had done his work well and soon Meg had her siblings all helping her with the weekly wash. Terry filled the large copper in the brew house, and when the clothes had had a good boil, Meg hauled the white shirts and the like into a shallow sink, She’d already added Beckett’s Blue to the water and Billy and Jenny swirled the clothes through there before wringing them out and taking them to Jenny who was operating the mangle. The rest of the clothes were heaved into the maiding tub and then Meg pounded them up and down with the dolly stick, That finished they all had a go at turning the mangle, while Meg hung the damp clothes on the lines criss-crossing the yard. This was all done to cries of encouragement from the women from the yard, who knew that Meg was keeping them busy for their own sakes.

And when the family wash was completed Meg fished out all the baby things their mother had put in a trunk in the attic and these too were washed in the sinks by hand for as Meg said, ‘There will be nothing new for this baby, so the least we can do is welcome her with sweet-smelling clothes and bedding.’