Honour Thy Father

by Honour Thy Father (retail) (epub)

  Peggy sighed. ‘He looks well but he never knew it was us till I said we was his mam and his sisters, then he put his arms round us and kissed us. He looks happy though, doesn’t he, Greg?’

  ‘Yes, he does,’ said Greg. ‘You see, Peggy, he’s blocked off the past and the future in his mind but he’s quite happy living in the present, the doctor said. He enjoys his food and sitting in that lovely garden and he’s made friends there.’

  ‘I seen you talking to the doctor, Greg,’ Peggy said. ‘I don’t like to ask to see the doctor and they never tell me nothing anyhow. What else did he say?’

  Greg sat down by Peggy and said earnestly, ‘He said that Michael is improving but it’s a long process. At first he forgot his friends if they went away to the toilet even but that doesn’t happen now and that’s encouraging. He’s fine while he’s awake. It’s when he sleeps that those nightmares start but there’s always someone on hand to calm him and the treatment is helping him.’

  Peggy had sat with her head bent as he talked but now she looked up into his face. ‘An’ he thinks it’ll take a long time? Will they keep him there, Greg?’

  ‘Yes, until he’s completely cured,’ Greg said quietly. ‘It might take years but you could see he was quite happy and the staff are fond of him.’

  ‘I’m glad, lad,’ Peggy said simply. ‘I’ve been worried about having a home for him to come to but if he’s cured he can go to one of the girls – or the lads.’

  ‘Yes. If you want to plan to live with your daughter there’s no need to worry about Michael,’ Greg said.

  Peggy said no more and a little later Greg took her home. After they had gone Sally sat looking into the fire until Cathy said gently, ‘Another cup of tea, Mum?’

  Sally looked up and smiled at her daughter. ‘No thanks, love. I’m just thinking. Peggy’s not planning on going to Chrissie’s. I think she’s clearing the decks, as your dad would say.’

  Cathy made no patronising protest. ‘I thought that, Mum,’ she said. ‘She knows Meg’s safe with Willie Smith and now she doesn’t have to worry about Michael.’

  Sally nodded. ‘And at least Peggy’s got a family that think the world of her. Not like poor Nellie Ashcroft. I keep thinking of her and them girls, Cath. Well, they’re born but they’re not buried, as Mrs Mal used to say. Maybe their own children will treat them the same way.’

  ‘Maybe,’ Cathy agreed. ‘Should we take a run down to our John’s or our Sarah’s after and see the children?’

  Sally laughed. ‘Yes, I’d like that but poor Greg, he’ll be sorry he ever bought that car.’

  ‘No, Greg’ll enjoy seeing the children too,’ Cathy said stoutly.

  Cathy telephoned Anne and it was arranged that they would go to Anne’s house and Sarah and Joe would be there with their children too. ‘So that I can put Julie to bed if she gets tired,’ Anne said.

  The visit was a success and Sally seemed greatly cheered by being with the children. David went immediately to his grandfather and told him about the book he was reading and experiments his class had made but the girls gathered round Sally and Cathy.

  ‘Do your new dance for Grandma and Nana, Rosa,’ Anne suggested and Rosaleen performed a graceful dance.

  ‘Very nice,’ Cathy exclaimed as they applauded. ‘A pity you didn’t like the dancing, Laura.’

  ‘I thought it was daft,’ Laura said bluntly, ‘especially when Miss Honey was saying “Think of leetle leeeves fluttering down, now we are all leetle leetle leeeves fluttering” and she did this.’ Laura waggled her arms and jumped about but Rosaleen fluttered gracefully beside her with outspread arms and dainty steps.

  All the adults laughed and Gerry, who had just come in called, ‘Rosa looks like a leaf fluttering, Laura, but you look like a conker falling on someone’s head.’

  ‘Aye, well, Rosa’s good at the dancing and Laura’s good at knitting,’ Sally said swiftly. She turned to Anne. ‘I can’t get over how quick she picked it up, even cable stitch, and lovely and neat too.’

  Laura smiled with delight and Cathy hugged her. ‘You must have inherited the knack from Grandma, love,’ she said. ‘Remember the beautiful knitting you did for us, Mum?’

  ‘Yes, but I was never the same after I broke my arm,’ Sally said. ‘The rheumatics got into it and I could never do the fine sewing or the complicated knitting after that, although thank goodness I could still do the everyday sort of work.’

  ‘Tell the girls how your arm was broken, Mum,’ Cathy said.

  Sally demurred. ‘No, they want to be out playing, not listening to those old tales.’ But Laura and Rosaleen clamoured for the story.

  ‘It was a long time ago,’ Sally said. ‘The First World War. Just before your dad was born, Laura. Luckily I’d already made his shawl.’

  ‘And you wore that shawl to be christened, Laura, and so did Gerry and Julie,’ said Anne.

  ‘So did I and so did David and Rosaleen,’ Sarah added, smiling, ‘and now it’s been put away for the next generation.’

  ‘Go on about your arm, Grandma,’ Laura urged.

  ‘People were very stupid,’ Sally said. ‘A ship called the Lusitania was sunk by the Germans and a mob of people went round wrecking the shops of anyone they thought was German. Poor Mr Solomon who had a sort of pawnbroker’s shop by us was a Polish Jew but they wrecked his shop too. I went to tell him they were coming and they set about me as well.’

  The children’s eyes were wide with horror. ‘Did they get put in gaol?’ Rosa asked.

  ‘I wish I’d been there, Grandma,’ Gerry said fiercely. ‘I wouldn’t have let them hurt you. Did they kill Mr Solomon?’

  ‘No, but they stole all his stuff,’ Sally told them. ‘And he was a real good old man too.’

  Laura stroked Sally’s arm. ‘Did it hurt a lot when your arm was broken, Grandma?’

  ‘Well, it did hurt, love, but it was more the inconvenience of it as it was my right arm. Still, it did me a good turn because your nana was married and in her own house then but she came home to help me because I couldn’t cut bread or peel potatoes or anything. Your grandad was in the army so she moved in to live with us and that’s how your dad came to be born in our house.’

  ‘But what about those wicked people? Did the police lock them up?’ asked Gerry.

  ‘No, they all scarpered when the police came near. I think they were ashamed of themselves.’

  ‘All this going on and we were stuck away in heaven,’ Rosaleen said with an aggrieved air.

  The adults laughed but Gerry said scornfully, ‘You get dafter every day, Rosa.’

  ‘It’ll be a long time before she’s as daft as you,’ Laura retorted quickly.

  ‘Now, now, only pretty pretty smiles here please,’ Anne said in parody of the dancing teacher and made them all laugh.

  Sally was cheered by the visit but only days later Peggy caught a cold which swiftly became pneumonia and within two weeks she was dead.

  ‘She didn’t make no fight of it,’ her daughter Chrissie sobbed to Sally and Sally comforted her.

  ‘It’s the way she wanted to go, girl,’ she told her gently. ‘We saw them women in the Kirkdale Homes with their minds gone astray with old age and your mam dreaded an end like that.’

  ‘I know,’ Chrissie said. ‘She never seemed the same after that day and she worried about going like them.’

  ‘And now she’s gone peaceful with her mind easy about Meg and Michael,’ said Sally. ‘Don’t wish her back, girl.’

  Chrissie dried her eyes. ‘She had a hard life, me mam, but she really enjoyed herself these last few years. She thought the world of you and your family, Mrs Ward, and youse were all good to her. Them trips to the pictures and coming back for her tea and then before that the way Mary in America paid for youse to go to the cafe after the pictures. Me mam’d never had such a good time.’

  ‘I was glad of her company,’ Sally said. ‘We went through a lot together, me and Peggy, and we never had a cross word from the day
she moved in next door to me all them years ago.’

  She wept a little and Chrissie said, ‘We’re all thankful for what you done for her and to Mr Redmond an’ all. Taking us to see our Michael and getting him into that good place.’

  ‘He’ll still take you to see him any time you want to go, Chrissie,’ Sally said. ‘I think he told Robbie that at the funeral.’

  ‘Yes, he did,’ said Chrissie. Suddenly she bent and kissed Sally. ‘Look after yourself. Good people are scarce. You and Mr Ward – all you done for people…’ She could say no more but fled sobbing, leaving Sally upset yet comforted.

  Chapter Four

  Laura was surprised that her great-grandmother showed so little distress at Mrs Burns’s death but Anne explained that old people learned to accept death. ‘Grandma knows that Mrs Burns enjoyed her life. She had a loving family and a peaceful end and she was ready to go. That’s what everyone wants for people they love,’ she said.

  Anne was trying to prepare Laura to face loss herself but Laura took a different meaning from her words. Her mother was old, Laura thought, not as old as Grandma but old, well over thirty, yet she didn’t accept death.

  Often Laura saw signs that her mother had been weeping and Anne would explain that the smell of St Bruno tobacco or an old song had reminded her of her dead father. But perhaps that was just an excuse, thought Laura. Perhaps it was really her father who made her mother weep. But Laura was less ready now to blame her father for everything. Since he had drawn up the family tree for her he had become more interested in her and shown his approval of the time she spent with Grandma. Laura had responded by being more obedient and less ready to argue. Anne was happy about the new harmony in the family and, always an optimist, decided that Laura’s awkwardness had been just a passing phase.

  Laura still tried to dominate Gerry at times but since starting at the college he had become more independent and refused to allow Laura to rule him as she had once done.

  He spent less time at home now as he was involved in so much at the college: athletics and cricket in the summer and cross-country running in the winter. So much homework was given by each master that most of his time at home was spent on it and there was little opportunity for the talks with him that John had always enjoyed. As a result he spent more time with his daughters but the fragile peace between himself and Laura was soon broken on a night when John was late home from work.

  Laura had woken with earache and Anne brought her downstairs, partly to avoid disturbing Julie and partly because she felt that Laura needed company. She settled the child in a chair by the fire, giving her an aspirin and a filled hot water bottle wrapped in a towel to hold close to her ear.

  John was still not home. He was the personnel officer at a large factory and had spent a frustrating day trying to reconcile management and employees to avert a threatened strike, with little success. It was late when he left work, still raging at what he considered their stupidity. He went straight to a committee meeting where he was immediately involved in a row with a councillor so he arrived home in a foul temper. He began to pour out his troubles to Anne but she said calmly, ‘Tell me about it later. Eat your dinner now.’

  ‘I don’t want it,’ John said but Anne protested.

  ‘You must eat, John. You’ll feel better.’

  ‘I don’t want it!’ John shouted. ‘Can’t you understand English?’

  ‘Don’t yell at Mummy,’ Laura shouted from the depths of the armchair. John looked round in amazement, seeing her for the first time.

  ‘Don’t speak to me like that,’ he snarled. ‘And don’t look at me like that either.’

  ‘Leave her alone,’ Anne said. ‘She’s got earache.’

  ‘Then why isn’t she in bed?’ said John.

  ‘I thought she needed company but now she’ll be better in bed. Come on, love,’ Anne said, picking up the hot water bottle and taking Laura’s hand. As they left the room Laura looked back triumphantly at her father, unseen by Anne.

  Upstairs Anne tucked Laura into bed, arranging the hot water bottle near her ear. ‘Go to sleep now, love,’ she said quietly. ‘The pain will soon go with the aspirin and the heat. Goodnight.’ She kissed Laura and went out, closing the door behind her.

  The look from Laura as she went out had left John clenching his teeth and trembling with fury. ‘I’m not having it,’ he burst out as soon as Anne appeared. ‘Speaking to me and looking at me like that. Would you have been allowed to speak to your father like that at her age?’

  ‘My father never spoke to my mother like you spoke to me,’ Anne said, sitting down and picking up her knitting.

  For a moment John looked startled then he said plaintively, ‘After the bloody day I’ve had, tearing myself apart for those boneheads at work, then I was late leaving so I went straight to the committee meeting and Philips was only waiting for me to come to start a row about procedure. I thought I’d get some sympathy at home but I wish I’d gone to the pub instead.’

  ‘So do I,’ said Anne. ‘You could have had another row there and worked off your bad temper before you got here.’

  John stopped pacing about and looked at her. ‘I suppose I shouldn’t bring my troubles home with me,’ he muttered.

  ‘Of course you should,’ Anne said. ‘And you know I always listen but you should control your temper, especially in front of the children.’

  ‘I didn’t see her there,’ John said. ‘But the way she looked at me as she went out, with her nose in the air and sort of disdainful. We’ll have to do something about her impudence. You’re far too soft with the kids, Anne.’

  ‘It’s a habit I’ve got into I suppose,’ Anne said dryly. ‘I’ve been too soft with you for years but you’ve never objected to that.’

  ‘Too soft with me?’ John echoed. ‘But I’ve never given you any reason to complain, have I?’

  Anne sat with the knitting resting in her lap looking at him quizzically and John crouched down beside her.

  ‘I’m sorry I spoke like that tonight,’ he said, putting his arms round her. ‘But it’s unusual for me to be bad-tempered with you, isn’t it, love? It was just that I was at the end of my tether. That performance from Laura was just too much altogether.’

  His rudeness to her came before he saw Laura but Anne only said, ‘She’s too much like you. That’s the trouble.’

  ‘Like me?’ John exclaimed, astounded. ‘She’s less like me than any of them, except for her hair.’

  Anne only shrugged and smiled then asked if he wanted his dinner.

  ‘In a minute. I’ll get it out of the oven. Listen, Anne, I do try to watch my temper, you know,’ John said humbly and Anne put her arms round his neck and kissed him.

  ‘I know. And you are better. A few years ago you wouldn’t have discussed things.’ She laughed. ‘You’d have said your piece then you’d have been out of the door before I could speak. Going walkabout, as your Mick called it.’

  John smiled but Anne could see that an unwary word could soon inflame his temper again and she said briskly, ‘Sit at the table,’ and standing up she took his dinner from the Aga and lifted off the plate covering it.

  She went into the scullery and John could hear her whistling an Irish jig. ‘You sound like your Eileen,’ he called and she reappeared smiling.

  ‘God, yes, she could whistle,’ she said. ‘I remember her whistling to a blackbird once and the bird whistled back. They kept it up for ages.’

  Upstairs Laura lay tense trying to hear what was happening downstairs, but even when she slipped out of bed and opened the bedroom door the solid old house made it difficult to hear more than a distant murmur. Once she thought she heard her mother laugh but decided she must be mistaken. What if it was a cry for help?

  After a while she crept along the landing then down a few stairs until she could peep through the banisters. The living-room door was slightly open and she saw her father light two cigarettes and hand one to her mother, who was smiling up at him as he bent over
her.

  As Laura watched in amazement she heard her father say casually, ‘Dad’s thinking of getting a television set. Now Grandma can’t get out much he thinks it’ll be a fresh interest for her.’

  ‘It’s a good idea,’ Anne said. She laughed. ‘Gerry’ll never get any homework done. He’ll be round there by the minute.’

  John turned as though to walk into the hall and Laura ran lightly back up the stairs and jumped into bed. Grown-ups, she thought in disgust. You never knew where you were with them. She thought her mother would have told her father off and yet they seemed like good friends. No wonder Rosa said they were all mad. Anne would have been amused to know that Laura decided that her mother was far too soft with her father.

  In previous years the families had gone to the grandparents’ house for Christmas dinner but in 1957 Sarah decided that it was too much for her mother and invited Cathy and Greg and Sally to her house. They were joined by Anne and John and their children and Helen and Tony and their two daughters.

  Sarah and Joe lived in a big old house with large rooms and they were able to seat sixteen round her large dining table fully extended. It was a happy occasion and everyone made an extra fuss of Sally who was becoming more frail although as bright and cheerful as ever.

  Cathy and Greg were happy because they had received a Christmas card and a short letter from their daughter Kate in America, who was now Mrs Capaldi.

  ‘We don’t know whether he’s in the Mafia or a successful ice-cream merchant,’ Greg joked, ‘but apparently he’s a millionaire.’

  Kate had met and married her first husband, the American Gene Romero, when he was stationed at Burtonwood during the war. She had returned to America with him but the marriage had not lasted. Now John said grimly, ‘Let’s hope he’ll be firmer with her than Gene was. He was too soft with her altogether.’ He suddenly caught Anne’s glance and they both smiled.

  Cathy said with a sigh, ‘Yes indeed. I hope poor Gene meets someone who can make him happy. He deserves it. We wrote to him and his parents and had lovely cards and letters from them.’