Shattered Dreams (7 page)

By the time he’d caught the Heswall bus, Eddie had made his mind up. He would move back into his parents’ home if they gave him permission to marry Irene. If not, they wouldn’t have a son and heir, because he wasn’t going to give up his girl.

CHAPTER FOUR

Eddie didn’t turn up to his parent’s house until Saturday afternoon, by which time his mother was beginning to think that the dratted girl hadn’t passed on her message, but Eddie had to be there for Irene and her mother. He had taken Friday off work after staying over at Aunt Miriam’s home, delivered Irene’s note to the Co-op, then made his apologies to Gerry Fielden saying he had to take time off for family reasons.

After checking on Irene, he then went to the Funeral Directors to make arrangements for Charlie’s burial. Neither of the two women felt up to doing that. Irene was heartbroken at losing her Papa and spent the day with her mother talking over old times.

Irene remembered how, as a little girl she would climb into one of the pear trees that they grew in the orchard. The sturdy branches had become a refuge from when her mother or sister wanted her to run a message up to the nearest shop, or worse still want to brush her long hair and twist it into ringlets. Papa always knew where she would be though and would creep stealthily under the trees, then catch her unawares. When she was a teenager he made her a bench to sit on, and on many a fine weekend in the late Spring she would do her sewing, watching the pear blossom blowing about as if it was snow.

She remembered how distressed her father had been when he was made redundant from Cammel Laird shipyard and he could no longer afford her school fees. It was if he had diminished in front of her eyes as man of the house and provider. His wife’s tone got sharper and she’d had to sell her garden produce from a stall on the dock road outside. That was when Charlie Wilson’s health started to go downhill, the shock of losing his employment brought his illness to the fore.

Around two o’ clock on Saturday afternoon, when Eddie had made sure that there was nothing more he could do for the bereaved women, he caught the bus to Whaley Lane, which was just around the corner from his parent’s home.

Gladys was sitting in the morning room, which looked over a patio and a small pond in the large back garden. She was reading a fashion magazine wondering what style of outfit she was going to wear at Caitlin’s wedding and whether she should wear pale blue, which was her favourite colour, or lilac, which was quite a modern shade.

Ellen, the maid of all work, met Eddie in the hallway.

“I’ve just put the kettle on, Eddie, shall I bring yer in a cup of tea?”

Her tone was as if he hadn’t been away for more than an hour or so. She nodded in the direction of the morning room and then pointed up to the ceiling with an exaggerated sigh.

“Himself ’s poorly, have yer come to see him then?”

“That will be all, Ellen,” said Gladys, after she heard her maid talking to someone and had walked into the hallway to see who had come to call. She looked delighted when she saw her eldest son.

“Darling, you’ve come back home again. Isn’t it strange that I told Ellen only yesterday to make up your bed again? Come into the morning room and let me have a proper look at you. Where have you been, you silly boy?”

“It’s only a flying visit, Mum, sorry. I’ve got to get back to Wallasey, Irene’s father died the other day.”

“You mean you’re living at this young woman’s house?” said his mother aghast, ignoring the mention of Irene’s father having passed on. “Such impropriety, Eddie, I never thought it of one of my sons.”

“We’re not living together, Mother,” he answered sharply. “Irene stays at her aunt’s in Seaview Lane, I’ve been living with her Mum and Dad.”

“Oh, well never mind, you’ll be coming back to live here soon, won’t you, Eddie? Now that your father’s ill you must come back and see that the business is running properly.”

“I’m only coming back if I get permission to marry Irene, otherwise one of my brothers will have to do the overseeing. Terry or Mickey will have to do.”

“No, no Eddie. Your brothers are far too young to have such responsibility. No, it must be you and I’m sure your father will agree with me.”

“Here’s your tea, Eddie,” said Ellen, her ears flapping as she brought in a silver tray with a china cup and saucer. “Coming back to stay are yer? Missed yer while you’ve been away.”

“Seeing as the kettle has boiled you can make me a cup of coffee, Ellen, then get back to whatever you were doing before Eddie came.”

His mother raised her eyebrows upwards and shrugged her shoulders.

“What can you do? Are you going to see your father now that you’re here?”

“I suppose I’d better. Shall I go up on my own or will you come too?”

“No, you go darling, it’s probably better that way.”

Eddie drank his tea, then bounded up the stairs two at a time. His father sat in his bed hunched up on a pile of pillows, his breathing sounded harsh and his face was red and blotchy.

“So you’re back then?” he growled, as Eddie put his head around the door. “Come to say you’re sorry now your daddy’s at death’s door?”

“That bad is it?” said Eddie lightheartedly. “I thought you might be skiving, taken to your bed for a few days.”

“Always the joker. Anyway it’s yer mother that wants yer back. She misses you, it’s not me.”

“Oh, so you’re quite happy to let the business fall around your ears, while you sit in bed letting it happen?”

“I agree Terry and Mickey have no experience in dealing with the men, but seeing as you’ve made the effort, it looks to me as if yer want to come back again. If yer do, though, it’s on my terms. I’ll not give you permission to marry, as far as I’m concerned you’re far too young.”

“But not too young to be running your business for you?”

“You’re quite the clever dick, aren’t yer son? This is just a bout of indigestion I’ve got ’cos of that bloody Ellen and her cooking. Doctor’s told me to rest in bed and lay off the cigs and whisky, so I’ll be right as rain in a couple of days.”

“Fine, then it looks as if you don’t need me.”

Eddie went back down the stairs again.

“Still in a grumpy mood, is he?” asked Gladys when her son returned to the morning room. “Look, Eddie, I’ve had a word with the doctor and he thinks your dad is troubled with his heart. He wants to have him in hospital for tests, but your father won’t hear of it. Your father really needs you here, but of course he’ll never say.”

“I told him I won’t be coming back to work for him, unless he gives me permission to marry Irene.”

“Oh darling, you both can be so stubborn. You’ve eighteen months to go before you’re twenty-one, then we can’t stop you marrying this shop girl. Come back home. Do it for me and then we’ll see what happens. Please, Eddie, I’ve got Caitlin’s wedding to see to and I really don’t want the family disunited at this moment in time.”

Eddie looked around at the spacious room with its elegant furnishings and the French windows that looked out onto the lovely garden and its little pond, then thought about Peartree Cottage with it’s sparse interior, lack of facilities and the problems of keeping the place warm. It would be good to get back to some home comforts, even if Ellen’s cooking left a lot to be desired. Irene could move back from her aunty’s to keep her mother company and they could have a proper courtship from then on.

It was like living a nightmare for Irene after her father’s funeral. Her mother would not be consoled and wandered around the house in a daze, whilst Irene did her best to comfort her. Eddie had left the day after he and Irene had gone to Southport to break the news to Isabel, so it was hard being left alone with Lily, who constantly cried that she hadn’t loved her husband enough and that he would still be there if she had.

Irene was worried. She didn’t want to leave her mother on her own, but the Co-op would be expecting her back as soon as possible and she wasn’t getting any pay. Her mother took no interest in her garden, though the Victoria plums were falling off the trees and the cabbages were beginning to bolt in the ground. She wouldn’t be cajoled into manning her produce stall outside the front gate, even if Irene were to offer her a hand. It was Eddie who came up with the solution. Why not take in lodgers again? Put an advert in the local shop and hopefully that would bring in a much needed income for the old dear.

And he had been right, for within a few days a local man with Irish relatives who visited Wallasey for a few weeks every year, answered the card that had been placed in the shop window. He was looking for somewhere for them to stay, as his cottage was too small to accommodate them.

The Kelly family consisted of mother, father and Kathleen their daughter. They were a lovely, happy trio, who brightened up the days of the two grieving women while they were there. Kathleen borrowed Irene’s old tap dance shoes and Mr Kelly played the fiddle, and evenings were spent watching the young girl perform Irish jigs or listening to old Irish melodies.

Eddie, meantime, had begun to take over some of the responsibility of running his father’s firm, though he found it rather difficult because J.C. still had his fingers in many pies. There was a lot of bitterness between them still, especially when Eddie attended the lavish wedding of Caitlin and Larry, then had to watch as the couple moved into the bungalow that should have been his.

One morning Eddie was eating his breakfast in the kitchen, when J.C. staggered down the stairs.

“You’ll have to lay the men off on Friday,” he said, pinching a piece of his son’s toast, as Eddie sat munching on his breakfast. “I’ve a bit of a problem with the bank at the moment, I’ve spent all night worrying, but I can’t see any other way.”

“What kind of problem, Dad? Cash flow problems? I thought those rents that you got from town covered the workforce’s pay.”

“It’s none of your business really, son. Just do as I say and tell the men we’ll get in touch when we start the building again.”

“I think it is my business if I have to go and tell them. I know there’s a bit of a slump on in the trade, but I was under the impression you could weather it with all the rents you’re getting in.”

“I’ve had a lot of expenses what with Caitlin’s wedding and our Sheena’s walking out with Harry Bennett now, so she’ll be looking for a big wedding before long.”

“And a bungalow no doubt, but don’t expect me to build it for them.”

“Cheeky sod. Think of all the experience yer got in building that one. Anyway I’ve got to see the bank manager again today, so let’s hope he’s got some better news.”

To cheer Irene, Eddie decided to take her to the Argyle Theatre. He couldn’t afford the best seats, because his dad was back to paying him three half crowns again, so they made do with the nine penny seats in the gallery.

The first act was Max Wall, a young comedian who had the audience rolling in the aisles, then Tubby Turner whose act was wrestling with a deck chair, and a singer named Donald Peers, who was billed as the Laughing Cavalier. His songs were very catchy, especially the one that became his signature tune, ‘By a babbling brook.’

Eddie took Irene to the Blackpool Supper Bar on Conway Street and treated her to a plate of fish and chips.

They waited by the Wallasey bus stop later and Eddie moaned about how nothing had changed in the Dockerty household since he decided to go back again.

“There’s Caitlin and Larry lording it up in that bungalow, Dad’s still an old cuss, Mother’s spending money like it’s going out of fashion and here I am, still only seeing you once a week like I did before.”

“I know, Eddie, I thought things would have changed for the better when you went back there. I wish we could get married, then we could live together with mother instead of having all these different lodgers all the time.”

“I’ve been thinking that maybe we could get away one weekend, Irene. Just the two of us in a nice little hotel.”

“Oh I don’t know about that, Eddie, it sounds a bit naughty. Anyway neither of us could afford to find the money for a hotel bill.”

They said goodbye as the Wallasey bus drew up, both reflecting sadly on the situation they were in.

J.C. sat in his bedroom with his head in his hands. It was worse than he had thought. The bank was drawing all his loans in and the houses from which he got his rents were all to be sold. He was told to file for bankruptcy, losing the quarry, the house and all the land that his father, Eddie Dockerty, had acquired the generation before. He glanced at the pills that his doctor had given him. Should he take the lot now with a bottle of whisky and be done with it, or face his family and rescue what he could? It had to be the latter, he was a Catholic wasn’t he and didn’t want to roast for eternity in a fiery Hell.

J.C. chose a Sunday afternoon to tell his family. He could guarantee that they would all be there because Ellen had the day off and Gladys cooked a roast dinner with the help of Sheena and Rosaleen. They all usually sat around in the sitting room later, the girls to relate a bit of gossip and the lads to discuss football and who was going to win the Cup.

J.C. cleared his throat nervously, looking over at Gladys who was resting her legs on an upholstered stool.

“I’ve got something to tell you all.”

His family looked at him expectantly. Maybe Sheena had announced the date of her wedding, another good do like the last one they hoped.

“I’m afraid I’ve got to file for bankruptcy.”

He could feel the heat of his body pouring into his brain as he said it and through the mist that seemed to envelop him causing his eyes to fill with tears, he saw the shocked faces on all of his children. There was a silence for a moment, then Gladys came over with a handkerchief. She stood in front of him while he wiped his face and so his children couldn’t see him disgrace himself.

“It’s a joke, isn’t it, Dad?” said Sam, the youngest, who went through life with his head in the clouds and never worried where his parents got their money from.

“No it isn’t, son,” answered J.C. morosely. “The slump’s affecting all sorts of people and I had a lot of loans that the bank’s called in.”