Greg put his arms round her. ‘That’s the best kind of monument,’ he said. ‘To be remembered like that. Mam didn’t live her life in vain.’
Cathy wept. ‘It reminds me of the crowds who came to my dad’s funeral. A lot of them were councillors and people like that who he’d pestered to get help for people but there were hundreds of poor folk as well. Do you remember, Greg?’
‘Yes, and it was such a bitter day and your mam was worried about them,’ said Greg.
‘She thought Dad would have been upset because they didn’t have warm clothes or good food inside them for such a freezing day to stand about in the cemetery,’ Cathy sobbed.
‘Never mind, love. There was no one as badly off as that for Mam’s funeral and that was partly because of all the good she and your dad did throughout their lives,’ said Greg. ‘Don’t cry, Cath. Think of the pain Mam was in, and it would have got worse.’
‘I know,’ Cathy said, drying her eyes. ‘I’m just selfish. Crying for myself, I suppose. Greg, I don’t know what I’ll do without her and poor little Laura’ll miss her more than anyone.’
‘I tell you what we’ll do. We’ll have a little holiday and take Laura with us. The school can’t object now the eleven-plus is over and it’ll cheer her up.’
‘We’d better take Rosa as well,’ Cathy said practically. ‘We can’t make any distinction between the girls and she’ll be company for Laura. Where should we go?’
‘I thought perhaps Gloucester. It’s lovely at this time of the year with all the blossom out or Devon or Cornwall.’
‘I think the seaside would be best for the girls,’ Cathy said, her thoughts successfully diverted from her loss. Anne and John and Sarah and Joe were enthusiastic about the plan and Torquay was decided on.
Laura was less enthusiastic. I don’t want to go away to forget Grandma, she thought rebelliously. I want to stay here and think about her but Greg asked her to help him in his garden and took the opportunity to talk to her.
‘We won’t forget Grandma when we go away, love,’ he said quietly. ‘She’ll still be with us. She’ll always be with us because of the happy memories we have of her.’
‘But why are we going away now to enjoy ourselves?’ asked Laura. ‘As if – as if we were celebrating.’ She found it hard to explain what she meant but her grandfather seemed to understand.
‘For Nana’s sake really, pet. You know she’s lived with Grandma or very near her all her life so she’ll miss her very much – even more because she’s had to do so much for Grandma lately. She’ll be lonely and she won’t know what to do with the empty hours. If we have a break she can start afresh when we come back.’
‘And she can do different things. Come and see Mum and Auntie Sarah or work in the hospital again,’ Laura said eagerly.
‘That’s right, and I hope you’ll still come and see us,’ said Greg. ‘I know it won’t be as often as you came to see Grandma but Nana needs you too, you know.’
‘Oh, I will,’ Laura promised and Greg began to talk about Torquay and nearby Brixham.
The holiday was a success and soon after they returned the results of the eleven-plus examination were announced. Laura and Rosa were informed that they would be going to the senior school, now known as a secondary modern school.
Their parents were disappointed but Anne said to Sarah, ‘I’m glad that if they had to fail the exam, they both failed. At least they’ll still be together.’
‘Joe doesn’t like it called pass or fail,’ Sarah said. ‘He’s always said it was selection but most people still see it as pass or fail. He thinks the eleven-plus should have been delayed until the secondary modern schools had the same facilities as the grammar schools but I think they’re catching up now.’
‘I’m not worried really. St Joseph’s is a good school and Mr Harris is an excellent headmaster.’
‘The Doyles’ eldest girl over the road is head girl there this year and she’s a credit to the school,’ Sarah said. ‘A really nice, polite girl and so good with the younger children. If Rosa turns out like that I’ll be happy.’
‘Let’s hope they both do. I know the discipline is good and the kids are happy there.’
‘That Rafferty woman came in the shop yesterday. You know her daughter’s going to Everton Valley. You should have heard her sympathising with me. I said St Joseph’s was a good school and she said all smarmy, “Yes, but I know Colette will be in good hands with the nuns and the girls get an extra polish from a convent grammar school.”’
‘What did you say?’ exclaimed Anne. ‘I’d have felt like planting her.’
‘I said, “My children don’t need to go outside their own home to be polished, thank God. There are no rough diamonds among the children in our family.”’
Anne laughed heartily. ‘Sarah, I didn’t know you had it in you. What did she say?’
‘Nothing. She just went as red as a beetroot and flounced out.’
‘Good for you, anyway,’ said Anne. ‘I can’t stand that woman and it’s only the uniform she wants to swank about. The education means nothing.’
Laura and Rosa were unconcerned. ‘I knew we wouldn’t pass,’ Rosa said. ‘And the parents don’t seem to mind.’
‘I’ll bet Sister Mary Angela tipped them off,’ Laura laughed. ‘The nuns, I mean.’
Rosa drew herself up and placed her hands in imaginary sleeves. ‘Oh, Sisters,’ she said, in the nun’s tones, ‘you won’t want those bold girls Laura Redmond and Rosaleen Fitzgerald disrupting your school. Let them go elsewhere and we’ll pray they’ll improve with the help of God.’
Laura was helpless with laughter. ‘Oh Rosa, you sound just like her. I’m glad we’re not going to the grammar. I remember Aunt Helen being worried when Moira first went there because of all the loads of homework every night and all the dos and don’ts.’
‘I think I’m allergic to nuns,’ Rosa announced. ‘I’m glad we’re going to St Joe’s.’
The holiday in Torquay had been such a success that at a family gathering it was decided to arrange a family holiday for when the schools closed. Joe would be free and John and Tony arranged their holidays for the same fortnight. They were able to book adjacent caravans in North Wales and Cathy and Greg promised to spend weekends with them.
Tony and Helen’s eldest daughter Moira, now a tall eighteen-year-old, had left her convent grammar school after taking A levels and was hoping to go on to university. Her adopted sister Dilly had been at the same school for a year and Moira came on holiday with the family so that she could spend more time with Dilly to whom she was devoted.
Gerry, now fifteen years old, was reluctant to join them and sulked for the first few days. The skiffle group had been disbanded and he had formed another group with Peter Taylor and two others. Gerry was the drummer and his drum kit was kept in the cellar of the Taylors’ house in Magdalen Street but he practised on every available surface with cutlery, knitting needles, anything he could lay his hands on.
He announced that Rory Storm and the Hurricanes with Ringo Starr as drummer were playing at Butlin’s Holiday Camp at Pwllheli in North Wales. ‘Why can’t I go there with my mates?’ he complained.
‘Because you’re only fifteen and you’re coming with us,’ Anne said. ‘And don’t think you can get round your father either. You’re not going off on your own with that crazy gang so just forget it.’
Gerry sulked for a couple of days, then in spite of himself he began to enjoy the holiday. A van delivered fresh milk and freshly baked, hot crusty bread every morning and everything else could be bought from the camp shop.
Sarah was unable to bathe because of an early bout of rheumatic fever and it was too cold for Julie but everyone else rushed to bathe every morning before breakfast.
They came back ravenously hungry to piled plates of buttered crusty bread and masses of egg and bacon and sausage cooked by Sarah and whoever had volunteered to stay with her. There was tea brewed in an enormous teapot and home-made marmalade a
nd jam.
In later years those meals were often recalled with nostalgia. ‘Nothing has ever tasted as good as that food,’ someone would say. ‘Nectar and ambrosia. That was a great holiday.’
Only Laura had reservations about the holiday and that was because of two incidents with her father. In June there had been a disastrous fire in Henderson’s, an exclusive department store in Church Street, Liverpool’s main shopping area. Eleven people lost their lives and the tragedy was still fresh in everyone’s mind. The family talked about it as they sat on the sands after a picnic lunch.
‘I often think about those poor people going out that morning to work or to shop, never dreaming that it would be their last day,’ said Sarah. ‘You’d wonder how such a thing could happen.’
‘And in such a lovely shop,’ remarked Helen.
‘It wasn’t a shop I ever used,’ Anne declared. ‘I went there once years ago when the children were small for a maternity bra and the assistant was horrible with me.’
‘They could be very snooty,’ agreed Helen. ‘Not all of them but some of them thought they were superior just because the customers were wealthy.’
‘She treated me like dirt,’ said Anne. ‘Nowadays, of course, I’d soon sort her out but then I was vulnerable. She made me feel poor and shabby and really inferior.’
‘Don’t talk rubbish, Anne,’ John said angrily. His face was red and congested.
‘I know what you mean, Anne,’ Helen interjected quickly. ‘We were easily intimidated when we were young. Makes me almost glad to be middle-aged.’
Anne disregarded John’s angry words. ‘I think the truth was I interrupted her talking to some sort of floor walker, a man in black coat and striped trousers and she was mad.’
‘She probably fancied him and you nipped a little affair in the bud,’ laughed Sarah.
‘The joke was that she swanned off somewhere leaving me waiting and a girl and her mother came in to return a bra. The girl was quite nervous, whispering to her mother that she didn’t think they’d change it. The assistant came back and just said rudely to me, “No we haven’t one”, then went gliding up to them with a smarmy smile on her face.’
‘They must have thought it was their lucky day,’ Sarah giggled.
‘Yes, and she had her eye wiped because she thought she’d make a sale,’ Anne said. ‘I never went back there though.’
John was still scowling and Tony looked annoyed. Laura sat near the group with Julie and Dilly and she glared at her father. I wish Auntie Helen hadn’t rushed in, she thought. I’m sure Uncle Tony was mad and he was going to say something about him talking to Mum in that bullying way.
Later when they were in their own caravan, the argument was resumed.
‘What were you playing at?’ John demanded. ‘Saying you felt poor and shabby and inadequate.’
‘But I did,’ protested Anne. ‘I can understand why people let themselves be pushed around. You lose confidence when you’re at home all the time with just young children.’
‘Nonsense,’ John exclaimed. ‘You’re talking rubbish, Anne.’
‘No, I’m not. You just don’t understand. If you come up against people in authority, especially if they are bullies, you can’t stand up to them. They treat you as though you’re inferior and you feel that you are. I’m not talking about myself now but I’ve seen it with other people.’
‘You were talking about yourself today,’ John said violently. ‘Making a fool of yourself and making little of me.’
‘Making little—? What are you talking about?’ Anne gasped.
‘Making out you were poor and shabby as though I couldn’t provide for my family,’ John said. ‘Letting your brothers see how badly their precious sister was treated.’
‘It wasn’t anything to do with providing. They all knew what I meant. About when I was ill after Julie was born.’
‘No need to rake that up and remind people,’ said John, changing ground. ‘I know your family blamed me for that.’
‘Now you’re talking nonsense,’ Anne began, but then she paused. ‘Oh, John, don’t let’s quarrel and spoil everyone’s holiday.’
‘Then be more careful about what you say,’ John retorted.
Laura could hear the quarrel clearly through the thin walls of the caravan and she longed for her mother to make a cutting reply but she only heard her father say in a different tone, ‘Would you like a cup of tea, love?’
Probably the raised voices had been heard in the caravans on either side but no one mentioned them.
Another day Gerry and David went missing and provoked more discord between Anne and John. The two boys were not as close friends as their sisters were but as the only boys in the holiday party they were thrown together and became closer.
On this day they had strolled along the beach turning up stones to examine small crabs and collecting curiously shaped stones and shells. They wandered further than they intended and as nobody had seen them go the adults became worried when the tide began to come in strongly.
‘It’s not like David,’ Moira said. ‘He’s always so careful not to worry his mother.’
‘It’s probably Gerry’s idea,’ Anne said.
‘Yes, Gerry’s a natural leader,’ John put in quickly, ‘and David’s a follower but Gerry’ll look after him.’
Laura saw an expressive glance between Tony and Joe but Joe only said quietly to Sarah, ‘They’ve probably gone to the camp shop for sweets or ice cream. They had money in their pockets.’
‘I hope so. Could they be trapped by the tide, Joe?’
‘Not on this beach,’ Joe reassured her.
Fortunately it was not long before they saw the boys approaching them from the bridge over the railway line which lay between the camp and the sea. David said immediately, ‘Sorry, Mum. We walked further than we realised and when the tide came in we thought it would be quicker to get a bus back from the road.’
‘David was panicking in case you were worrying but I knew you’d know we were all right,’ Gerry said cheerfully.
‘We did worry,’ Anne rebuked him. ‘Be more careful in future.’
But John said impatiently, ‘I told you there was no need to fuss. I know my son. He can look after himself and anyone else who tags along.’
Again Laura saw glances exchanged between the adults although nothing more was said, and Anne saw them too. Later in the caravan when John began to scoff at the panic about the boys she said quietly, ‘It was David who showed sense although he’s two years younger than Gerry. He was the one who suggested the bus back.’
‘Nonsense, they could have walked back in no time – or Gerry could without David holding him back.’
‘With the tide in? It would have taken them twice as long,’ Anne said. ‘I wish you wouldn’t boast so much about Gerry, John. People will think we’re daft.’
‘What do you mean?’ John demanded.
‘Saying he’s a natural leader and all that. We shouldn’t brag about our own.’
‘Don’t talk daft. I wasn’t bragging. Just stating a fact,’ John snapped. Anne said no more but Laura lay in bed fuming. Just you wait, she thought. Another few years and I can get a job. I’ll take her and Julie away and you’ll never be able to talk like that to her again.
All the family were fond of John although they were sometimes irritated by his remarks but they said nothing, partly for Anne’s sake and partly to preserve harmony in the family. John was quite unaware of giving offence.
When Cathy and Greg came for the weekend he behaved like the loving son he was and exerted himself to make his mother’s visit as enjoyable as possible. Later, when Julie suddenly developed a high temperature, he was loving and supportive with Anne, so that her brothers saw the better side of his nature.
‘He’s just obsessed with Gerry,’ Joe said tolerantly. ‘No half measures in anything with John but there’s no harm in him.’
‘He runs off at the mouth a bit but it doesn’t seem to bother our Anne, t
hat’s the main thing,’ said Tony. ‘She seems happy enough.’
They were all sorry when the holiday ended and decided that they must do the same again another year. Julie had recovered quickly and everyone agreed that they felt in better health because of the sunny days by the seaside. It had also provided a break between the time of deep grief for Sally and a return to normal life, although she would never be forgotten.
In September Laura and Rosa settled happily into their new school. Freed from Miss Mixley’s sniping, Laura made good progress and her new teacher Miss Watts found her bright and responsive. She gave Laura the praise and encouragement that she needed at that time.
Rosaleen was equally happy. She developed a passion for the male teacher who took them for art and worked hard to please him. He carefully gave her no encouragement but her hard work and talent merited praise which he was too just to withhold. Rosa treasured his words and wrote them in her diary to be read and reread and repeated to Laura who said nothing to spoil her dreams.
Both joined a youth club and spent happy hours there, playing table tennis, dancing to records or just talking with others in the bar where they could buy soft drinks and tea.
Laura was still uninterested in boys but Rosa revelled in the admiring glances of the young boys and in being in great demand for the dances. She was an excellent dancer in addition to being outstandingly pretty and boys stationed themselves strategically near the girls for when the youth leader announced the next dance.
Laura was still unable to dance well but sometimes one of the losers in the race for Rosa would ask her to dance. ‘I should be called Laura the next best thing,’ she announced without rancour to Rosa. ‘They’re willing to have their feet trampled on just to ask me about you.’
The only drawback to the youth club, the two girls decided, was that their fathers insisted on meeting them, taking it in turns to escort them home. When Laura grumbled, Anne told her that she should be glad that her father cared enough to cut short a meeting to walk her home but Laura only scowled.
Honour Thy Father Page 8