Remember Me (11 page)

‘A showgirl?’ Two high spots of colour blazed on Anna Murphy’s cheeks and her green eyes flashed with the brilliance of an emerald. ‘It gets worse. Not only do I find that you’ve been lying to us, to your daddy and me, now I find that you’re consorting with a common showgirl!’

‘She is certainly not common!’ Dan thumped his fist on the table, then, realising that on no account must he lose his temper, he clasped his hands together in his lap, the tension he was feeling making his knuckles white. He forced himself to speak in a normal voice.

‘Madeleine – that is her name – is a very respectable, well-brought-up girl, who happens to have a remarkable voice and – yes – she sings on the stage. I met her, quite by chance, on the promenade. She had already met Joe, and so we became friendly. And that is all, apart from the fact that I do intend to go on seeing her. And now I would like to know what you mean by saying that I have lied to you. When have I ever lied to you, or to my father?’

‘By pretending that you were at the library, and that you were studying with Father Fitzgerald when you were out gallivanting with…that girl! I met the Father in town yesterday, I’ll have you know, and he said he hoped you were feeling better! “Feeling better, Father?” I says. I wasn’t aware he’d been poorly. “Ah well, maybe it’s me that’s made a mistake then,” says the Father. He said a note was pushed through his door saying that you would not
be going for your tuition at all this week, and that you would let the Father know when you were able to start again. And so he assumed that you were ill. What do you have to say about that, eh?’

‘I wasn’t ill,’ replied Dan, ‘and nor did I say so. He misunderstood, that’s all. And you and my father assumed that I was at the library, or with Father Fitzgerald. At no time have I lied to you, although I admit I may not have told you the absolute truth. Which is what I intend to do now…

‘Mammy…’ He put his elbows on the table, leaning forward and clasping his hands together. ‘I have decided, after hours and hours of thought – and of prayer, too, I must say – I have decided that I am not going to enter the priesthood. I realise now that it is not for me. I do not want to be a priest.’

‘What!’ His mother sat back with such force that the chair rocked. ‘You meet a young lass, you take a fancy to her, and then you decide that you’ll turn your back on God? You’ll forget about what He has been calling you to do all your life, ever since you were a tiny baby in your cradle?’

Dan gave a thoughtful smile. ‘Are you sure that God has been calling me, Mammy? Or…was it you? It was what you wanted, wasn’t it?’

‘Of course it was,’ replied Anna. ‘And it was what I promised as well. We had two stillborn babies, you know, your daddy and me, two sons, before you came along. We’d almost given up hope of having a live child, and I promised God that if
my next baby was all right, then I would give him back when he was old enough, to serve the Lord. And you were not just all right, you were perfect, Daniel, and I had to keep my promise.’

‘Supposing I’d been a girl, Mother?’ asked Dan. ‘Would you have forced me to become a nun?’

‘I don’t know, Daniel!’ Anna shook her head vexedly. ‘Maybe I would, yes… But I don’t like the way you say forced. I am not aware that I have forced you to do anything that you didn’t want to do. I remember, when you were old enough, how we used to talk together about a life of service and what it would mean. And you became an altar boy, didn’t you, and a server? And you did so well at school, staying on until you were seventeen and studying theology. And Father Fitzgerald has been so good to you since we moved here, taking you under his wing and coaching you. I thought you were happy with him.’

‘I am,’ replied Daniel. ‘He’s a great fellow as well as being an excellent priest, and I’ve learnt a good deal from him. But during the course of my studies I have also learnt that…well, that it is not for me. There are other ways in which I can serve God, and I don’t intend to give up on my faith, if that is what you are thinking.’

‘I am only thinking what a fool you are, Daniel, to have your head turned by a pretty young woman.’

‘Actually, it has very little to do with meeting
Madeleine,’ said Dan, very calmly. ‘But it did start me thinking. Or, I should say, it finally brought my soul-searching to an end. I want to lead a normal sort of life; to enjoy the friendship of girls as well as lads, and not to think that it is wrong and that I’m in danger of committing a mortal sin.’

He could see that his mother was looking tearful now, more than angry. ‘I am so disappointed,’ she said, dashing away a tear that had formed in the corner of an eye. ‘Whatever will Father Fitzgerald say? And all the other people…’ Yes, all the other folk that you have told, Mammy, thought Dan. ‘You have let me down, and yourself, to say nothing of letting God down. And I still think it is all because of that girl. You are making a big mistake, Daniel.’

‘I would be making a bigger mistake if I went ahead with it,’ he replied. ‘Believe me, Mammy. Now, just you think about it. Whose idea was it, when I was a little boy, when I was encouraged to go to church and Sunday school, and then to become an altar boy? It was your idea, wasn’t it, your plan for me? Yes, I went along with it and – yes – I grew to love it all; the mystery and the sanctity and the feeling of holiness. There is something about it all that compels you to become part of it. But I know now that it was not my idea to take it so far. I can’t do it, Mammy. I just…can’t do it.’

Anna did not answer at first. She sorrowfully
shook her head. Then, ‘You will change your mind,’ she said in a whisper.

‘Don’t delude yourself, Mother,’ he replied gently. ‘I won’t change my mind, I can assure you of that. And as for Madeleine…well, she’s a nice respectable girl, as I’ve told you. And she does go to church.’

‘She’s a Catholic then?’ asked Anna, looking up with just a glimmer of hope in her eyes.

‘No, as a matter of fact she’s a Methodist,’ replied Dan.

‘I’ve heard everything now,’ yelled his mother, standing up with a force that made her chair topple over. ‘A Methodist of all things!’ She stormed out of the room.

‘I must admit it didn’t go awfully well,’ Dan went on to tell Maddy. ‘But then I didn’t expect it to. I knew my mother wouldn’t understand.’

‘Does she know about me?’ she asked.

‘Yes, of course,’ replied Dan. ‘I told her about you, how we’d met on the promenade, and that I’ve been showing you some of the sights of Blackpool.’

‘And I can imagine how she would feel about that…’ Maddy sounded as though she were close to tears and Dan felt an upsurge of affection for her. The poor girl. It was all his fault; she hadn’t asked for any of this.

‘That wasn’t the main issue with Mammy,’ he replied carefully, in an attempt to reassure her. ‘What she is upset about is finding out that I’m not
going to enter the priesthood.’ On no account would he tell Madeleine that his mother was laying all the blame on her for leading him astray.

‘I explained to her that I had already been having doubts before I met you, and you must believe that too, Madeleine.’ He placed his hand over hers and she did not pull away. ‘And I do want to go on seeing you, even though you are leaving in two days’ time.’ She was looking at him thoughtfully, sorrowfully, and much of the sparkle had gone from her eyes.

‘Madeleine,’ he begged, ‘please tell me that I can come and see you in Scarborough. You will be there all summer, and I don’t want this to end for us.’

‘No, I don’t want it to end either,’ she replied. ‘But it’s been such a shock, hearing all this; and it’s a tremendous step you’re taking, changing your mind about everything.’

‘It would have been a tremendous step if I’d gone on with it, as my mother wanted me to do,’ he replied. ‘What is more, it would have been wrong, because I was never sure about it. I tried to explain this to Mammy but at the moment she’s too angry and upset to listen to me properly.’

‘So what are you going to do? About your job, I mean, and your studies? You say you’ve been having tuition from a priest?’

‘Yes, Father Fitzgerald. I shall go and see him soon and try to explain. He has said to me, more than once, that I must be very sure of my calling –
it’s quite possible he had realised that I was not absolutely certain – so I think he will understand. And I shall start working full-time for Mr Grundy at the shop, until I have a definite plan in mind. He will be pleased; he has asked me many times to consider it. And I do believe that you can serve God in whatever walk of life you happen to be,’ he smiled. ‘Even if it’s selling trousers and shirts.’

‘You will still go to church, won’t you?’

‘Of course. I tried to explain that to mother as well, that I’m not turning my back on everything. I work with a group of young people at the church, boys and girls of thirteen and upwards. We meet on a Saturday night and have a game of rounders or cricket, on the sands if the tide’s out. Then we go back to the Sunday school hall and have a chat about…well…theological matters, or anything that might be puzzling them.’

‘And they know, do they, about you studying to be a priest?’

‘Some of them; well, most of them, I suppose. But it shouldn’t make any difference…’ In point of fact, some of the young folk with more enquiring minds had almost tied him in knots about several of the doctrines of the Roman Catholic Church, making him wonder if he really believed wholeheartedly himself in such things as the Infallibility of the Pope, or the Bodily Assumption of the Virgin Mary. And these doubts in his mind had played a part in the decision he was now making.

‘Listen, Madeleine,’ he said. ‘Meet me just one more time, will you, please, before you leave? What about Saturday night? There’s only one house, isn’t there?’

‘Yes, we should finish at about a quarter to ten…’

‘Shall I wait for you then, by the pier entrance?’

‘Yes, all right Dan. I’ll meet you there… I must go now to get ready for tonight… No, don’t come with me.’ She put her hand on his arm to stay him as he started to walk along with her. ‘I’ll walk back on my own if you don’t mind. I’d like to be alone for a little while.’ She hesitated, then turned and gently kissed his cheek. ‘Goodbye, Dan,’ she said.

He wondered if the ‘goodbye’ meant goodbye for ever; that she didn’t want to meet him again. It seemed to him, in his anxious state, that it had a ring of finality to it. But she could hardly avoid him, could she, if he stood at the pier entrance? She had to come out that way.

He need not have worried because she greeted him cheerfully on the Saturday night. He felt his heart give a leap as he saw her trim figure hurrying towards him along the pier. She was dressed in a close-fitting green suit with a neat little matching hat with a long feather. He was pleased to see that her eyes had regained their sparkle as she smiled at him.

‘Hello, Dan. I got away as quickly as I could. The rest of them will be having a bit of a do back at our
lodgings, with Mr and Mrs Jolly. I said I would join them later…I mustn’t stay out too long,’ she added.

‘Of course not,’ he said. ‘We’ll just have a little walk away from the crowds.’

Most of the people coming away from the pier and from the other shows that were on in the town were walking on the busy stretch of promenade near to the Tower. Maddy and Dan walked the other way, past the Metropole Hotel, towards the quieter end of the resort. They spoke very little, each of them, it seemed, waiting for the other one to start. Eventually, Dan stopped in a spot where there were few passers-by.

‘Have you forgiven me, Madeleine?’ he asked.

‘There is nothing to forgive,’ she replied. ‘I am trying to understand. I realise this is difficult for both of us. I have grown…fond of you, as I’m sure you realise, and I do want to go on seeing you, when we can…if we can,’ she added, a shade doubtfully.

‘Madeleine…’ He put both his arms around her, drawing her close to him. ‘I…I love you,’ he whispered. ‘We haven’t known one another very long, but I know that I do.’ He lowered his head and their lips met in the first real kiss that they had shared; a kiss full of tenderness and sweetness, and wonder, too, about what the future might hold. Daniel hoped and prayed that there might be a future for them.

She did not reply that she loved him, but he could
see the depth of feeling there in her eyes. They turned to walk back home, chatting more freely on the way. Maddy told him how well the show had gone that evening, with an enthusiastic audience who had wanted encore after encore. Dan would have liked to have been there, but he was biding his time at home, anxious not to distress his mother any more than he had done already.

Maddy gave him her father’s address – she was not sure of the lodgings in the Lancashire towns they would be visiting next – but he promised her that there would be a letter awaiting her when she arrived in Scarborough at the end of May. She promised she would write back and they would arrange a time for him to go and see her there.

He kissed her once more at the gate. ‘Goodbye, Madeleine…my darling,’ he added in a whisper. It was the first time he had murmured words of love, but it felt so right.

‘Goodbye, Daniel,’ she said, smiling at him, but he could see the glimmer of a tear in the corner of her eye. ‘I’ll see you soon… It won’t be very long.’ Then she turned and hurried away up the path.

But Dan felt at that moment that the end of May was a lifetime away.

Chapter Nine

M
addy unpinned her straw boater and threw it on the grass at the side of the picnic basket. Then she lay down, stretching out full length on the clifftop overlooking the North Bay.

‘It’s heavenly to feel the sunshine,’ she called out, closing her eyes and lifting her face to the warmth. ‘What bliss!’ She gave a deep sigh of contentment. ‘And it’s so lovely and peaceful up here.’

‘It’s all right for you,’ retorted her friend, Jessica, who was unpacking the basket and placing the items carefully onto the plaid rug. ‘If I let the sun get to my face I would have more freckles than I have already. Anyway, young ladies are supposed to be pale and fragile looking, aren’t they?’

‘I suppose so,’ agreed Maddy. ‘I remember my mother making me keep my sun bonnet on when we went on the beach.’ She sat up again. ‘But be blowed to all that. I’m far too hot. I’m going to take this off as well.’

She unbuttoned her Norfolk style tweed jacket to reveal a high-necked, long-sleeved blouse with a slim ribbon necktie. A gored skirt, not too narrow, but not too wide to catch in the spokes of a bicycle
wheel, completed the bicycling costume that she was wearing. It was almost identical to the one that Jessie wore except for the ribbons on the hat and at the neck; Jessie’s were blue and Maddy’s were green.

‘Leave that, Jessie,’ she called, ‘and come and sit down. We don’t want to eat just yet, do we? Not after that enormous lunch.’

They had cycled from Scarborough along the road that eventually led over the moors to Whitby, as far as the hamlet of Scalby Mills. The grass-topped cliff overlooked a sandy beach and beyond was the wide sweep of the bay with the ruined castle perched on the clifftop.

Jessie joined her on the rug, taking off her jacket as well but keeping her hat on. Her hair had darkened a little from the fiery orange it had been when Maddy had first met her. She had worn it in two bunches or plaits then, but it now waved gently around her ears, her centre parting revealing a high freckled forehead. She had tried to tone down the sun spots with emollient creams and lotions but with no great success. But to Maddy, and to others who were fond of Jessie, the freckles were part of her charm. She was the same age as Maddy; they would both be seventeen within a week of one another at the end of that month, June. Jessie was now the taller of the two by a few inches. Her long arms and legs resembled the limbs of a young foal, but she was not graceless, having learnt to move
with the dignity that enhanced her height, as her mother had always done. Faith Moon was a beautiful woman, the passing years only adding a maturity to her loveliness. Jessie, who resembled her to a certain extent, could never be called beautiful, but she was a striking-looking girl and, more importantly, she had a friendly and sympathetic nature.

One of the best parts of Maddy’s homecoming had been the resuming of her friendship with her best friend, now her stepsister. It was a Sunday afternoon at the beginning of June and Maddy had been at home for just one week. Uncle Percy’s Pierrots, as the troupe was called during the summer season, had given a few preliminary shows the previous week but were to start in earnest the following day in their usual pitch on the North Bay.

To Maddy’s great delight there had been a letter awaiting her from Daniel. Not a long letter, but enough to tell her that he was thinking of her and looking forward to seeing her again. He said very little – nothing, in fact – about the situation at home, but had mentioned that he was now working full-time at the gents’ outfitters and that they were getting busy with the onset of the summer season.

She had written back to him the next day, suggesting that he should come to Scarborough during the third week in June. She would turn seventeen at the end of that week – on the Friday – and she felt that the extra year would add more
weight to her announcement to her father and Faith that a young man was coming to see her. Seventeen sounded so much more grown-up than sixteen. She hadn’t plucked up the courage to tell them yet, although she was not sure why. In fact, she hadn’t told anyone about Dan, but she intended to tell Jessie that very afternoon.

‘I’ve got something to tell you,’ she began, unable to keep the delight out of her voice, ‘but promise you won’t say anything to my dad, or to Aunty Faith just yet. I’m waiting for the right moment to tell them myself, you see.’

‘No, of course I won’t tell,’ said Jessie. ‘Not if you say I mustn’t. You know you can trust me. But what is it that I haven’t to tell? Is it something to do with the Pierrots?’

‘No, nothing like that,’ Maddy replied shaking her head. She sat hugging her knees and looking out into the distance with a dreamy smile on her face. ‘I met a young man, when I was in Blackpool,’ she began. ‘He came to see the show and…well…we happened to meet, and we liked one another. A lot,’ she added. ‘And he’s going to come over to Scarborough to see me. Soon, I hope.’

‘Gosh!’ Jessie’s blue eyes were agog with excitement. ‘What is he called? How old is he? What does he do?’ The questions poured out of her with scarcely a breath between them.

‘Not so fast,’ laughed Maddy. ‘Give me a chance. He’s called Daniel Murphy, but everyone calls him
Dan, and he’s nearly twenty, and he works…well, at the moment he’s working in a gents’ outfitters in the town…I really do like him,’ she added, turning to look eagerly at her friend. ‘But…’

‘But…what?’ asked Jessie. ‘Do you think there might be a problem with our parents? He’s a few years older than you, of course.’

‘Only three years,’ said Maddy.

‘Yes, I know, but you’ve not had a boyfriend before, have you? D’you think they might say that you’re too young?’

‘No, it’s not that,’ replied Maddy. ‘Anyway, they don’t know what I’m doing when I’m away all through the winter, do they? I might have had any number of boyfriends for all they know. But I haven’t,’ she added. ‘There was nobody at all until I met Dan.’

‘What about Samuel?’ asked Jessie, looking at her closely. ‘I know you liked him a lot; I could tell. And I’ve seen him looking at you as well. And I know he took you out for supper when you were in Leeds, didn’t he?’

Maddy could feel her cheeks turning a little pink. ‘Oh no, there was nothing like that,’ she said. ‘We went out for supper, and…it was very nice seeing him again. But – well – he’s my stepbrother, isn’t he, like you’re my stepsister, and that’s all there is to it.’

‘I’m glad to hear it,’ said Jessie. ‘I know he’s my brother, but there are times when I don’t like him
very much. I’m relieved to hear that you’re not keen on him anymore. Your brother, Patrick, now, he’s much nicer.’

‘Yes, you used to like him, didn’t you? You know, really like him,’ said Maddy, giving her a sly look.

‘Yes, so I did. We were both a bit silly about each other’s brothers when we were younger, but we’ve grown up now, haven’t we?’ said Jessie. ‘Patrick’s just another brother to me now, and he and Katy seem very happy together. They’re talking about getting married next spring. Anyway, that’s enough about all that. You were telling me about this Dan. So…what’s the problem?’

Maddy was silent for a moment. Then, ‘He’s a Catholic,’ she replied, ‘and I’m a Methodist. At least I am when I go to church; I haven’t been going all that much recently with being away. And…well, there are always problems, aren’t there?’

‘I don’t see why,’ said Jessie, carefully. ‘I was C of E, and so was my mother, but we all go to the chapel with your dad and Grandad Isaac sometimes. The twins go to the C of E Sunday school because Mother wanted them to, but we never have any arguments about it.’

‘But being a Catholic is rather different, isn’t it?’ said Maddy. ‘I mean, there was a lot of trouble in the past – King Henry the Eighth and all that – and some people have never got over it. Not that I’ve ever really understood it properly. I don’t know much about them, the Catholics, except that they
have a Pope and they have to believe everything he says, and that they worship the Virgin Mary as well as God and Jesus.’

Jessie nodded. ‘We learnt all about the Reformation at school, about Henry the Eighth making himself head of the English Church and breaking away from Rome. But it was only because he wanted to divorce Catherine of Aragon and marry Anne Boleyn, so that he could get a male heir to the throne.’

‘And she got her head chopped off, didn’t she?’ said Maddy.

‘So she did, and she didn’t give him a male heir anyway,’ said Jessie. ‘Only a daughter, who became Queen Elizabeth.’

Maddy knew that Jessie’s historical knowledge was greater than her own. Jessie had attended a private school in York and then continued her education in Scarborough before going on to the commercial college, whereas Maddy had left school at thirteen. There were certain gaps in her knowledge, which she had tried to rectify by reading books on all manner of subjects.

‘So it was all because of Henry the Eighth, was it?’ she asked. ‘That’s why we have the Church of England?’

‘I think that was the crux of the matter,’ said Jessie. ‘But I’m sure there’s a great deal more to it than that. I know it has caused a great deal of discord and dissension over the centuries.’ Jessie
had used important-sounding words ever since she was a little girl, but Maddy knew she was not showing off and she had long since learnt to accept it without comment. ‘But hasn’t this young man, Daniel, explained it to you?’ asked Jessie. ‘He obviously doesn’t mind that you’re not a Catholic, or he wouldn’t be coming to see you… He does know that you’re not, doesn’t he?’ she added, looking at her friend keenly.

‘Of course he does,’ replied Maddy. ‘But we didn’t talk much about religion; in fact, he hardly mentioned it at first. And then…he said there was something he had to tell me.’ She paused. ‘You see, the point is…he was studying to be a priest,’ she went on, speaking quickly, ‘and then – well – he changed his mind. And his mother is furious with him, and it’s causing a lot of trouble in the family. He hasn’t said much about it, but I know it is and…that’s what I’m worried about.’

Jessie’s eyes were wide with amazement, tinged with something that amounted to horror. ‘Good gracious!’ she said. ‘No wonder you’re worried. You mean – he changed his mind because he met you?’

‘No, not really,’ said Maddy. ‘At least, he said it wasn’t because of me. He was already having doubts about being a priest. But I feel as though I’m to blame for him falling out with his mother. I had a nice letter from him, though, and he still wants to come and see me.’

‘When is he coming?’

‘I’ve suggested the third week in June.’

‘And where will he be staying? At our house?’

‘I don’t know. I haven’t got round to thinking about that yet. Like I said, I haven’t told my dad yet, or your mum.’

‘You’ve written back to him?’

‘Yes, nearly straight away, and now I’m waiting for another letter from him.’

‘Well then…’ Jessie paused, frowning as though she was concentrating hard. ‘I think you should wait until you hear from him again, and then you’ll have to tell our parents, won’t you?’

‘Yes, I suppose I will. But I don’t need to tell them everything, do I? About him going to be a priest, I mean, because he’s not, not anymore.’ Maddy was beginning to have doubts herself as she looked at Jessie’s worried face, and some of the joy of looking forward to Dan’s visit was receding.

‘No, perhaps you don’t need to tell them that,’ said Jessie, doubtfully. ‘But you’ll have to tell them about his different religion, won’t you?’

‘I didn’t think it would matter,’ said Maddy, feeling perplexed, ‘but now I’m not sure. You think it’s wrong, don’t you, me being friendly with him? I can tell you do.’

‘No…of course I don’t.’ Jessie placed a consoling hand on her friend’s arm. ‘I was surprised, that’s all. But if you like him then I’m sure my mother and Uncle William will like him too. What does he look like? Tell me all about him…’

And so Maddy told her friend more about Daniel as they ate the salmon sandwiches and fruitcake, made by Mrs Baker, and drank the hot coffee from the Thermos flask. But she no longer felt quite so blissful about it all. She could see problems on the horizon, which, in her euphoric state, she had been trying to forget. All she could do at the moment, however, was to wait until she had another letter from Dan.

‘So what about you?’ she said to Jessie. ‘Tell me what you have been doing. You will be finishing your college course soon, won’t you? Have you started looking for a job?’

‘Yes, as a matter of fact, I have,’ replied Jessie. ‘Actually, your father asked me if I would consider going to work for him; in the office of course, not…anything else.’

Maddy grinned. ‘No, you’ve never been keen on the idea of dead bodies and all that, have you? I remember when I first met you, you thought it was very strange, my dad being an undertaker. You used to be scared stiff there’d be corpses all over the place when you came to see us.’

‘No, I didn’t!’ said Jessie indignantly. ‘I wasn’t used to it, that’s all, and you’d been brought up with it, hadn’t you?’

‘That’s true,’ replied Maddy. ‘So what have you told my father? You wouldn’t come into contact with coffins and all that side of the business if you were working in the office. Have you agreed to do it?’