Eileen and Martin and their two sons were coming from Dublin and Maureen would also attend the wedding so it would be a reunion for the Fitzgerald family. It was arranged that Maureen and the unmarried brother from Canada, Terry, would stay with Anne and John, and the other brother Stephen and his wife Margaret and their two daughters with Sarah and Joe.
‘The first time we’ll all have been together since my dad died,’ Anne said to Laura. ‘It’ll be better for Terry to stay here because he was engaged to Sarah at one time. They parted as friends when she decided to marry Joe so don’t mention it to anyone, will you?’
‘Of course not,’ Laura said, flattered that her mother talked freely to her. ‘Does Dad know?’
‘Of course,’ said Anne. ‘We were all young together and Sarah is his sister.’
‘And Uncle Joe’s your brother,’ Laura said. ‘It seems strange, doesn’t it? Brother and sister married to brother and sister. I could never work it out when I was little.’
‘I don’t see anything strange about it,’ Anne said. ‘Sarah and I worked together and we were friends so we knew each other’s families.’
Cathy and Greg had offered hospitality to Eileen and her family, but a week before the wedding Cathy fell down stone steps and broke her ankle, so Eileen and Martin and their two boys went to stay with a relation of Martin’s who lived in Seaforth.
Anne and Sarah booked a large room in a local hotel for the family reunion two nights before the wedding, with a buffet supper provided by the hotel. John collected Maureen earlier in the day and they were all relieved to see that she was not much worse than at Christmas.
Terry had also arrived and there was an emotional reunion between him and Maureen and Anne. Laura watched him curiously. He was a tall, muscular man, very tanned, with receding dark, curly hair and she thought he looked more like her Uncle Tony than her mother and Maureen and Joe.
Anne’s hair was still dark and her face unlined but Maureen’s face was marked with suffering and her hair grey. Terry hugged her, visibly upset, saying, ‘Oh Mo, you look so like Mum.’ He hugged Anne too and said, ‘And you’re like Mum as she used to be when we were little.’ Laura thought he was tactless but his sisters were not offended. Maureen only smiled and said as she drew away and wiped her eyes, ‘Wait till you see Anne’s youngest, Terry. She’s the image of what Mum must have been in her youth, in every way.’
Julie appeared at that moment and Terry stared then exclaimed, ‘I can see what you mean, Mo.’
Julie smiled shyly and Laura stood by, ignored but feeling that she should be used to feeling excluded.
It was Maureen who finally noticed her and said gently, ‘And don’t you think that Laura’s like John, Terry?’
Terry agreed and Maureen said with a smile, ‘You young people will be fed up with us. It’ll be nothing but matching up when we all meet again after all these years.’
She was quite right. At the gathering in the hotel the main topic was the likeness of the younger people to various members of the family. ‘I feel as though I’m in the ring in the cattle market,’ Laura muttered to Gerry.
‘Cheer up. They’ll have to finish with the topic sometime,’ he murmured. ‘Look at Dad. He’s suffering as much as us.’
‘I know. That’s all that helps me to bear it,’ Laura said and Gerry glanced sharply at her, uncertain whether she was making a joke or not.
Julie was the centre of attention as everyone commented on her likeness to their mother and soon it became too much for Julie. She whispered to Laura, ‘I’m going to find the Ladies. Are you coming?’ They slipped away and as they went into the Ladies’ Toilet they were confronted by a full-length mirror.
‘Gosh, I’m glad to get away for a while,’ Julie said but Laura said nothing. She was gazing, fascinated, at the reflections of herself and her sister.
‘I didn’t realise I look such a big horse beside you,’ she exclaimed.
‘Don’t be daft. It’s me that’s small, not you that’s big,’ Julie said.
‘But I look huge, and the size of my hands and feet compared to yours.’ Laura went closer to the mirror and looked with disfavour at her tall figure and with envy at Julie’s petite form and her small features with large brown eyes reflected there.
Julie’s straight dark hair was long and thick, worn with a centre parting, and Laura fingered her own dark curls with disgust. ‘Trust me to have curly hair when straight hair is all the fashion,’ she said. ‘And to be so hefty when people like Twiggy are fashionable.’
‘You’re not hefty. You’re normal,’ Julie insisted. ‘I’m the freak. Size three shoes! I’ll never be able to get fashionable shoes. You’re just tall but you’ve got a lovely figure and normal size hands and feet.’
She went into a cubicle but Laura remained staring at her reflection, examining her face critically. Her skin was good and her dark blue eyes were large and fringed with dark lashes but she thought her high-bridged nose looked too large. With that and her determined chin she could see why Sean had said that she looked arrogant and sure of herself. Other people had hinted the same to her.
If they only knew, she thought. Inside I’m just jelly. Julie is much more confident than I am although she looks so timid.
The door opened and one of the Canadian cousins came in as Julie came out of the cubicle and began to wash her hands.
‘Hi,’ the girl said. She looked at Julie. ‘I can tell you’re a Fitzgerald – the Spanish look – but where do you come in?’ looking past her to Laura.
‘I’m the daughter of Anne, the youngest Fitzgerald, and this is my sister,’ Laura said. ‘Our name is Redmond.’
‘I’m Rilla,’ the girl said and grimaced. ‘Called after Marilla the aunt in Anne of Green Gables, would you believe it? Stephen’s my father.’
‘I love that book,’ Julie and Laura said together and they all laughed.
‘Yeah, but I hate my name,’ Rilla said. ‘You don’t look like sisters. Is your father called John?’ and when Laura nodded, she said triumphantly, ‘I thought so. I guessed because you’re so like him.’
That’s all I need, Laura thought, escaping into a cubicle. She wished that David or Rosa had come to the party but David was now into his finals and Rosa, though she had promised to come, had not arrived. She had left home a few months earlier to live in what she called an artists’ colony near Lark Lane in the south end of Liverpool, much to her parents’ distress.
‘Her sensible phase didn’t last long,’ Sarah said to Anne. ‘Now it’s all flower power, make love not war.’
‘Nothing wrong with those sentiments,’ Anne said. ‘But I can’t see why she needs to leave home.’
‘I’m afraid of what she’ll get up to,’ Sarah confessed. ‘She’s so easily influenced.’
‘Never mind, she’ll settle down one of these days,’ Anne consoled her but Sarah said it was what would take place before that happened that worried her.
Only Moira’s fiancé was at the party in addition to the family until late in the evening when Rosa appeared with a man. There was a stunned silence as they entered, Rosa in a long, handwoven kaftan with ropes of beads about her neck, flowers in her hair and hanging from her ears, and bare feet. She was completely at ease and said gaily, ‘Hi, everyone. This is Naughton. He’s American.’
Naughton raised his hand. ‘Hi,’ he said. His wild hair cascaded down his back and a luxurious growth covered his face so that he seemed to peer out as from undergrowth. He, too, wore a handwoven garment and a flower in his hair and his feet were bare.
Rilla waved an arm and said, ‘Hi, babes.’
Sarah and Anne were the first to recover among the older people and went forward to greet the couple. Sarah tried to introduce them but Rosa only smiled vaguely at everyone and Naughton’s attention seemed to be on the long tables of food at the back of the room.
Anne took them over to the food but Rosa dismissed the meat pies, ham rolls, spare ribs and chicken patties.
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�We don’t eat flesh,’ she said grandly so Anne offered egg mayonnaise and salmon sandwiches or cheese. Rosa hesitated but Naughton was already filling his plate so Anne left them to help themselves.
‘I think Naughton would have had all the meat stuff as well if he’d been alone,’ Anne said to Sarah.
‘Rosa’s always fanatical about everything while the craze lasts,’ she responded wearily. ‘The state of her, Anne! I feel ashamed.’
‘Why? She still looks fantastically pretty even in that get-up,’ Anne said laughing.
John was looking at Rosa and Naughton with disgust. ‘What the hell is it?’ he said to Tony and he laughed.
‘A caveman maybe, who doesn’t believe in carrying a club.’ Although Tony found them amusing John was outraged, particularly by Rosa.
‘Just look at her. Bare feet! When I think that my grandfather Lawrie Ward, her great-grandfather, fought all his life so that there would be no barefoot children on the streets of Liverpool. And there’s a girl from a good home with plenty of shoes walking around like that.’
‘But that’s the point, John. They’re doing it from choice. The kids you’re talking about were barefoot through poverty,’ said Tony.
‘It still annoys me. I’m glad my grandfather didn’t live to see it,’ John said stubbornly.
‘Who’s that?’ Rilla asked Laura.
‘My cousin Rosaleen. Your cousin too because her father is Joe Fitzgerald,’ Laura said. ‘She’s a case. We were best friends when we were kids but I don’t see so much of her now. She moved out to live in what she calls an artists’ colony a few months ago.’
‘Is she into flower power?’ asked Rilla. ‘There’s a hippie commune near where we live full of people like that weirdo she’s got in tow. All into free love. Is she?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Laura, ‘but her crazes never last. I think her mother was hoping she’d be back to normal before the wedding so she’s been keeping quiet about this.’
‘What are they like, her parents?’
‘Couldn’t be more conventional. They had family prayers until a few years ago. Their son’s at Cambridge, a very quiet, clever fellow, David.’
‘Sounds like a drip,’ Rilla observed.
‘No, he’s not,’ Laura said indignantly. ‘He’s all right. A good skin.’
‘I guess that’s why Rosaleen is way out. She’s rebelling against them,’ Rilla said and Laura laughed.
‘No, it’s just because she doesn’t give a damn. She never has done. She does whatever takes her fancy at the time and she could get away with murder. And she is an artist. She sells her stuff and she went to the College of Art.’
Rilla seemed to lose interest in Rosa and was gazing about the room and Laura tried to edge away. I’ve had enough of this one she thought, with her opinions on everything and everybody, but Rilla was now looking at Julie who was talking to aunt Maureen.
‘Proper little ray of sunshine, isn’t she?’ Rilla sneered. ‘Like my flaming sister. They called her Joy and she thinks she has to live up to it. Real pain, she is. I suppose yours is the same.’
‘No, she’s not. We get on all right, Julie and I. My brother had an accident a while ago and we got much more matey while we were worried about him.’
‘I can’t stand my sister,’ Rilla said frankly. ‘Can’t wait to see the back of her. Is that your brother over there, the fair fellow? What sort of an accident did he have?’
‘He was the drummer in a group and they were coming back from a gig when they crashed the van. Two of them were killed and Gerry and another fellow badly injured but he’s OK now.’
‘He played in a group? Like the Beatles?’ Rilla said, round-eyed.
‘Not quite,’ Laura said but Rilla insisted that Laura should introduce her to Gerry. She stayed with him, bombarding him with questions when she found that he knew members of groups like Gerry and the Pacemakers, the Moody Blues and Faron and the Flamingos.
Laura thankfully slipped away from them. A little of her would go a long way, she decided. Criticising everyone and hating her own sister!
Helen nervously spoke to Rosa before the end of the evening, asking her to look more conventional for the wedding. ‘Twin set and pearls?’ Rosa joked but Helen was unable to smile.
‘Please, Rosa,’ she said gently. ‘It’s Moira’s day. You don’t want to take all the attention away from her, do you?’
‘I couldn’t. She’s the bride,’ Rosa said, looking surprised, but she was fond of her quiet little aunt and could see that she had nerved herself to make the request so she said cheerfully, ‘OK, Aunt Helen. I’ll melt into the background. Promise.’
‘You’d never do that, love. You’re too pretty,’ Helen said. ‘But just a bit less – striking.’
Rosa’s laughter pealed out. ‘I’d better get rid of hairy Dan from Dingle too.’ She looked down at her feet and said ruefully, ‘I’ll even wear shoes just for one day.’
Helen reached up and kissed her. ‘I hope you didn’t mind my asking. You’re a good girl, Rosa.’
Rosa laughed again. ‘Don’t say that, Aunt Helen. You’ll get me a bad name.’
Naughton was eating his way steadily through all the non-meat food on the buffet, including the sweets. Rilla had attached herself to Laura again and commented that Naughton behaved as though he had not seen food for a month. ‘It’s a wonder he can find his mouth through all that hair,’ she said. Laura said nothing. She was determined not to agree with Rilla or to criticise the guests.
Helen told Sarah that Rosa had agreed to dress more conventionally for the wedding and even wear shoes. ‘She was very good,’ Helen said. ‘Didn’t mind at all that I asked her.’
‘Thank God for that,’ Sarah exclaimed. ‘She always puts us in the wrong. This business of not eating meat or using leather. She makes us feel like heartless cannibals but I’m not depriving Joe of his roast dinner for her or anyone else.’ She sounded so indignant and determined that Helen smiled.
‘I didn’t realise that was the reason for the bare feet. I suppose her principles are good.’
‘Yes, but there are never any half measures,’ Sarah said. ‘We hoped she’d settle down after that Ricky business, but it didn’t last.’
‘It’s her artistic temperament,’ Helen consoled her.
The wedding morning was bright and sunny as the Redmond family prepared to leave for the church. Peter Cunliffe had arrived with David from Cambridge so he was with Julie while Terry was escorting Maureen. Gerry and Margaret and Anne and John paired off as they walked down the aisle of the church. Laura followed, feeling alone and conspicuous and sure that everyone was looking pityingly at her.
Only David and Laura of their generation were unattached. The Canadian girls were understood to have boyfriends at home and the Irish boys were too young. It doesn’t matter for David, Laura thought bitterly. Everyone assumes that it’s a man’s own choice but I suppose I’ve been written off as an old maid.
There was a stir as Rosa appeared, drifting demurely down the aisle in a dress of floating green chiffon with a broad band of green chiffon in her auburn hair, but the main surprise was her escort. Neil walked self-consciously behind her wearing a dark suit and tie and followed her into the pew beside David.
Laura could see that David’s shoulders were shaking with laughter and everyone was smiling broadly but suddenly the organ, which had been playing quietly, burst into the strains of ‘Here Comes the Bride’.
Moira appeared wearing white lace and carrying roses, her plain face transfigured with happiness, followed by Dilly, and Jack’s sister wearing blue taffeta. Jack stepped out to meet her, an adoring smile on his face, and they moved together to stand before the priest.
As the Nuptial Mass proceeded, Laura knelt, her hands gripped tightly together and her mind full of bitterness and envy. Will I ever kneel on the altar as a bride? she wondered. It was unlikely, she thought. She watched Moira and her new husband and looked around the church at other couples. Dill
y glancing over at Andy and his beaming smile back, Margaret looking up at Gerry, Julie in a blissful dream as she knelt close to Peter. Even the older couples were smiling at each other drawn close by the words of the marriage service and the obvious happiness of the bride and groom. The other guests, friends of Moira and Jack, all seemed to be in pairs and Laura felt that she was the only one in the church who was unloved and unwanted.
I’m not jealous of Julie, she told herself, and I don’t begrudge her or Moira their happiness but why is life so easy for some people and so hard for others? She glanced along the row at her father who knelt with his head flung back and his lips firmly closed. Why couldn’t I have been born looking like Julie, she thought, with her easy nature, instead of being like him, with his Roman nose and his jaw and his talent for saying the wrong thing?
The congregation rose to their feet and with a sudden change of mood Laura thought defiantly, I don’t care. At least I’m honest and I say what I think and what I know is the truth. If people don’t like it, I can’t help that.
The organist broke into the triumphant sound of the Wedding March as Moira and Jack began to walk down the aisle. Laura glanced behind her and saw David who winked at her and gave her a grin and suddenly she felt more cheerful. At least there was one person who understood her and liked her.
She had determined that she would avoid her cousin Rilla at the reception but she found it impossible. She was sure that Rilla would have attached herself to Gerry if Margaret had not been with him, and that she herself was only a substitute, but it was impossible to shake Rilla off.
She was still freely offering her opinion on everyone she met and annoying Laura by finding something derisive to say about everyone, including her hosts, Sarah and Joe. ‘Makes me suspicious when people are so gushing,’ she said, ‘bending over backwards to welcome you. Makes you wonder what they’re saying behind your back.’
‘Would you rather they didn’t welcome you?’ Laura said sharply. ‘And I can tell you neither of them are the sort to talk behind your back.’
Honour Thy Father Page 24