A Mother's Spirit

by Anne Bennett

  All night she tossed and turned, but by the morning no solution had presented itself. So before she went to visit Joe that day she wrote a letter to Tom, explaining everything. Tom’s answer came by return of post.

  Dear Gloria,

  You can come and welcome, and as soon as you like. You do right bringing Joe here. He will I’m sure be fit and well again in no time and I really can’t wait to see you all.

  Love, Tom

  All Gloria had to do then was tell Joe, and in such a way that he would have no idea of the desperation she felt at the thought of living for months in a remote cottage in the back of beyond. He was delighted that the doctors thought him well enough to be discharged, but not so happy about the things his wife and son had endured.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me that you had been bombed out?’ he asked.

  ‘For what purpose?’ Gloria replied. ‘You would have fretted and worried, and that would have done nothing to change the situation, but could easily have made you ill again.’

  ‘And now you are proposing to go back to Ireland with me,’ Joe said. ‘In fact, you have it all sorted, but you hate the countryside and this is as rural as it gets.’

  Gloria leaned forward and kissed Joe gently on the lips. He felt his heart turn over with love for this wonderful women when she said, ‘You need a place where you can get the peace and quiet that the doctor prescribed, and that is all that matters to me. Now all I need are some clothes for you, for yours were crushed in the flat, and I need a case or something to carry our possessions, though there are precious few of them. Everything else is in hand.’

  Ben was waiting for his father in the visitors’ room of the hospital, and though it was very early, the place was all astir. He watched all the white-coated doctors with their stethoscopes swinging, striding about importantly, the nurses scurrying from place to place, the porters pushing trolleys or wheelchairs around, and the cleaners with their mops and buckets tackling the corridors.

  He was impatient to see his father and wished he would hurry up, but when he did appear in the threshold of the room, Ben was shocked to the core. He knew his father had been very sick, but when his mother said he was well enough to leave hospital, as far as Ben was concerned, he would almost be back to normal.

  However, the man that shambled into the waiting room just a little later bore little resemblance to the father that he hadn’t seen for over four months. The clothes his mother had got for him seemed too big, his face was grey and his cheeks sunken.

  Ben knew that he couldn’t rush at him the way he usually did, the way he wanted to, and so he approached him slowly and Joe saw him biting his lip in agitation.

  Joe felt like death warmed up. Even dressing had exhausted him, and the material felt rough against the newly grafted skin, but he forced a smile and said, ‘Hello, Ben. Haven’t you a hug for your dad?’

  ‘I might hurt you.’

  ‘Away out of that,’ Joe said. ‘When did a hug ever hurt anyone?’ He put his arms around his son and had to bite back the grimace of pain as Ben’s arms tightened around him.

  Ben gave a sigh of relief, turned to his father and said, ‘You’ll get properly better soon, won’t you, Dad?’

  ‘I will certainly,’ Joe said. ‘I need good fresh Irish air in my lungs and nourishing food in my body and I will be as right as rain in no time.’

  ‘Mom said there won’t be no bombs in Ireland,’ Ben said. ‘So we won’t have to go to the shelter in the middle of the night, and you won’t have to go out and fight fires any more, will you?’

  ‘No,’ Joe said. ‘That’s one good thing, anyway.’

  ‘Come on,’ said Gloria. ‘If we don’t get a move on we will miss the train. Come here, Ben, and I’ll help you put that haversack on.’

  ‘Let me carry it,’ Joe said. ‘Or give you a hand with the case at least.’

  ‘Joe, we have such few possessions now that there is no weight in the case,’ Gloria said. ‘All you need to do is put one foot in front of the other and you can take my free arm to help you, if you need it.’

  ‘It doesn’t seem right.’

  ‘None of it is right,’ Gloria said. ‘War isn’t right. What happened to you isn’t right. Let me and Ben take care of you now, Joe, and try and make you well again. OK?’

  ‘Have I a choice?

  ‘No,’ Gloria said firmly.

  Joe shrugged. ‘I had better say OK then,’ he said with a ghost of a smile.

  ‘Yes,’ Gloria said. ‘You had best had. Now come on, let’s get going.’

  Ben knew that he had been on a boat before. His mother had showed him America where he had been born and the big expanse of sea they had crossed called the Atlantic Ocean to reach London, but he had only been four at the time, little more than a baby and only had vague memories of it. This time the sea they had to cross was called the Irish Channel and his dad said as it was only a small stretch of water the boat wouldn’t be so big, nor the journey so long.

  Ben was pretty impressed just the same. The boat was the Ulster Prince, it had three black funnels and it looked massive. Ben felt his stomach turn over at the exhilarating thought that he was actually going to get on board and sail away.

  ‘Isn’t it just grand, Dad?’ he said, as they stood on the deck together and looked out over the rails to the grey scummy water lapping the sides of the boat and then to the activity on the dockside.

  Joe smiled. ‘It is, son. Another new chapter of our lives is opening up.’

  ‘I am dying to meet Uncle Tom.’

  ‘You will like Tom,’ Joe said confidently. ‘You’d be hard to please if you didn’t like Tom, mind you, for he is a grand man altogether, and I am looking forward to seeing him again myself.’

  And then the engines throbbed into life, black smoke billowed out of the funnels, and there was a sudden screech from the hooter, so loud and strident that Ben had his fingers in his ears. Then the boat moved ever so slightly and they were on their way.

  Ben was tired by the time the train was pulling into Derry station. He just wanted the journey to be over. Joe wanted that too, because he was feeling very jaded and sore. He got up and stood in the corridor as the train began to slow down.

  As the platform came into view he said with relief, ‘There’s Tom waiting for us.’

  At this Ben got up to join his father, anxious to catch sight of this uncle who had been so kind to him. Gloria too wanted to see the man she had got to know through the many letters exchanged while Joe had been in hospital.

  She saw that Tom was still a handsome man with a fine head of hair. Once it had been a vibrant brown, though it was now liberally laced with grey, as was Joe’s. Like Joe he was of medium height and had cheery ruddy cheeks, from life in the open air, she guessed. When he spotted them his whole face broke into a beam of happiness and Gloria felt herself relax.

  The train drew to a halt and the family began to alight as Tom hurried across the platform to meet them. He thought he had never seen anyone as thin as his brother. Joe had never carried excess weight, but now he was positively gaunt, and holding himself stiffly as if every movement was painful, and his eyes were slightly glazed.

  Tom’s heart turned over in pity for the discomfort Joe was so obviously in, but he wiped this from his face as he bid him welcome, because Joe had always hated people feeling sorry for him. Then he turned to welcome Gloria, whom he felt he knew from her letters, and realised that she was as beautiful as Joe always claimed she was, with her blonde hair, flawless skin, high cheekbones and those vivid violet eyes.

  Tom put his arms around her. ‘Welcome to Ireland, my dear,’ he said.

  ‘Thank you, Tom,’ Gloria said. ‘I am so glad to meet you at last and I know this is the right place for Joe just now.’

  ‘It is indeed,’ Tom said. ‘We’ll have him as right as rain in no time at all. What do you say, Ben?’ he said, turning to the boy, who was the image of his mother.

  Ben looked at this man, his uncle who spok
e in such a slow and easy way and had really kind-looking eyes, and despite his weariness he felt safe and secure in a way he hadn’t done for ages. ‘That’s what Dad thinks as well,’ he said, remembering his father’s words in the hospital.

  ‘Well, then,’ said Tom, ‘let’s get you up in the cart and we’ll have you home in no time at all.’

  As they walked towards the cart, Joe gave a laugh and said sardonically, ‘I hardly think so, with this horse.’

  ‘Not five minutes in the country and you’re complaining about the horse already,’ Tom grumbled. ‘I told you before and I will tell you again, there is nothing wrong with this horse.’

  Ben didn’t think there was much wrong with it either. ‘That horse is like the ones in London that pulled the beer barrels and the coal!’ he exclaimed, and said to his father, ‘You said you had a horse with the shaggy feet on the farm here.’

  ‘Ah, yes,’ Joe said, as he helped his wife and son up into the cart. ‘But what else did I say? Do you remember that?’

  Ben shook his head, ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘I said those type of horses are built for strength not speed. Tom’s claim that he would get us home in no time is not a strictly truthful one.’

  Gloria shot a glance at them, alarmed that they had begun to argue within minutes of meeting, but she soon saw that it was all play-acting, ongoing banter between the brothers.

  ‘Well, it will be a damned sight quicker and more comfortable than walking,’ Tom said. ‘So stop your blether and get up beside your wife.’

  ‘I’m riding with you,’ Joe said.

  ‘You would be more comfortable in the cart,’ Tom told him. ‘I have cushion and blankets ready for you.

  Joe said nothing but just stared at Tom with an almost challenging look in his eyes. When Tom’s eyes met Gloria’s, she gave a slight shrug that said quite clearly that he was wasting his time, that once Joe had decided on something that was that.

  ‘Please yourself then,’ Tom said, getting up behind the horse and pretending not to notice the grimace of pain that Joe made when he hauled himself up and the cautious way he sank onto the seat beside his brother.

  As the horse plodded steadfastly down the road, Joe began pointing things out to Gloria and Ben. Gloria saw how important it was for him to bring his wife and son back to his birthplace, especially as Ben loved everything he saw. Raised in London streets, he was amazed at so much greenness and space. He admired the sheep that dotted the hillside, and the little white cottages they passed. They each had a plume of smoke rising from the chimneys, and Ben asked what it was.

  ‘When you have a fire in the grate, the smoke comes out the chimney,’ Joe said.

  ‘Why would anyone have a fire today?’ Ben asked. ‘It’s boiling.’

  ‘I know, but you see most people here cook on the fire.’

  ‘Oh boy, do they really?’ To Ben that seemed the most amazing fun.

  Tom and Joe laughed, and Tom answered, ‘Aye, and to tell you the truth it is not always the most convenient thing. On a day like today, for example, you are sweltered indoors and so the door has to be left open, and if you’re not careful the chickens from the yard will find their way in too.’

  Gloria thought chickens running around a kitchen disgusting, but Ben thought it sounded magical. ‘You have chickens?’ he said.

  ‘Yes, Ben,’ Tom said. ‘We have many chickens. In fact, it will probably be one of your jobs to collect the eggs each morning.’

  ‘Oh boy!’ Ben cried. ‘Eggs as well?’

  ‘They come from chickens,’ Tom said. ‘Didn’t you know that?’

  Ben shook his head. ‘I don’t know much at all about eggs.’

  ‘Small wonder,’ Gloria put in. ‘Eggs don’t feature much in a wartime British diet. Each person is supposed to have one egg a fortnight, and we are lucky if we see one egg a month.’

  ‘That’s dreadful.’

  ‘God, Tom,’ Joe said, ‘in the end, with the blackout and the bombing and all, the food or lack of it was the least of our problems.’

  ‘The Americans brought dried egg powder with them,’ Gloria said. ‘It started appearing in the shops just as we left and I suppose that might help the situation a bit.’

  ‘Well, there’re plenty of eggs here,’ Tom said. ‘And we have cows too for the milk. Have you ever seen a cow, Ben?’

  ‘Yeah, from the train,’ Ben said. I’ve never seen one close up. I went to a zoo once with Mum, but they didn’t have any cows.’

  ‘Well, do you know cows give the milk you drink?’

  ‘Yeah,’ Ben said. ‘Dad told me. I thought that he was joking at first.’

  ‘Oh, it’s no joke, believe me,’ Tom said. ‘Cows have to be milked twice a day every day, even at Christmas.’

  ‘Golly.’

  Tom was tickled with Ben’s enthusiasm. ‘I’ll show you how it’s done, if you like; let you have a go.’

  ‘Oh, you bet,’ Ben cried.

  ‘You mustn’t get under your uncle’s feet,’ Gloria said. ‘I am sure that he is a very busy man.’

  ‘Not too busy to take my nephew around and show him things, though,’ Tom said. ‘It’s bound to be strange to him.’ And then, as they passed fields of ripening hay, he went on to Joe, ‘We’ll have a grand year for the harvest as long as the weather doesn’t break.’

  ‘No sign of it so far anyway,’ Joe said. ‘And I will be fit enough by then to give you a hand.’

  ‘Why make promises you might not be able to keep, Joe?’ Gloria chided. ‘How d’you know that you will be recovered enough to help at the harvest? For goodness’ sake, don’t try to run before you can walk.’

  ‘I will help you, Uncle Tom,’ Ben said, ‘if you show me what you want done. And I will have plenty of time because Mum says I will not be going to school until September and that is ages and ages away.’

  ‘Think you will be able for it?’ Joe asked him with a twinkle in his eye, and when Ben answered firmly, ‘You bet I will be,’ the two men laughed uproariously and laughed even harder when Ben asked, ‘What is harvest, anyway?’

  Gloria actually was feeling quite panicky and this seemed to increase with every step the horse took. She felt she had left civilisation way behind in Derry, and she had a genuine horror of being buried in the country.

  ‘How far away is Buncrana from the farm?’ she asked Tom.

  ‘About two and a half miles by road,’ he said. ‘Slightly less if you go over the fields.’

  God Almighty! Gloria thought. Two and a half miles up hill and down dale to buy a loaf of bread. But then, she told herself they probably didn’t buy bread, they made it, and as they were living here she would probably have to learn to make it too. And cook it over the open fire, what was more. God Almighty, what had she come to?

  ‘All right?’ Joe said, glancing back and seeing the look on Gloria’s face.

  Gloria knew she couldn’t say what was really on her mind. She had made the only decision she could have done for Joe’s sake. What was the point of whining about it now? And so she said, ‘I’m fine. It is certainly very beautiful and I am sure that I will soon settle down.’

  ‘That’s my girl,’ Joe said proudly. But he was well aware that Gloria was just putting on a brave face, and she hadn’t met his mother yet.

  ‘How does Mammy feel about us just landing on her like this? he asked Joe quietly.

  There flashed into Tom’s mind the scene when he told her that Joe and Gloria and Ben were coming to live with them in order that Joe recovered totally from his injuries. She had been furious but he had stood firm and reminded her that it was his decision to make, not hers, that the farm belonged to him and she had better remember that.

  ‘Mammy came round to it in the end,’ he said.

  ‘Tom, you are talking to me, your brother,’ Joe said. ‘Mammy never comes round about anything.’

  ‘Why ask the road you know then?’ Tom said. ‘She is bad as she always was. She’ll never change and I suppos
e it’s best you are prepared for that.’

  When the cart drew up in the cobbled yard just a few minutes later, Gloria was appalled by the place, but Ben was enchanted. He thought the cottage was like a pretend house, for it was like no house he had ever seen before. It was a squat, low building that didn’t look big enough to live in, and it was painted white and had yellow straw stuff for a roof and a door that he saw opened in two pieces.

  Chickens roamed freely about the cobbled yard, pecking constantly, two dogs ran barking from the barn, and lots of cows looked over the fence of a nearby field and lowed gently.

  ‘Past time for milking and they are letting me know about it,’ Tom said with a smile as he leaped from the cart and lifted the case and bag as if they weighed nothing at all. ‘Come away in.’

  Gloria was surprised that Joe’s mother hadn’t appeared to greet them, though Joe had warned her that she was one on her own and didn’t operate under the same rules as the rest of society.

  ‘Mammy,’ Tom called as he entered the cottage, ‘they’re here.’

  ‘D’you think that I am deaf and blind, or what?’ Biddy growled out from her position by the fire. She didn’t get to her feet, not then and not even when Joe followed his brother and stood framed in the doorway side by side with Gloria with Ben in front of them.

  Gloria peered through the gloom. She hadn’t realised that the room would be so dim, and she saw the light came from one small window at the far end.

  However, she could see the old woman sitting in the chair glaring about her as if she hated the whole world and everything and everyone in it. She ignored Gloria and Ben, and spoke only to Joe.

  ‘So, you have decided to come home at long last?’

  Even forewarned, Joe was appalled at his mother’s rudeness in not even acknowledging Gloria and Ben, let alone welcoming them. He walked to stand in front of his mother and spoke stiffly. ‘As you see, Mammy, the prodigal returns. When that happened before, didn’t they kill the fatted calf?’ He looked pointedly towards the grate where the fire was almost out and there wasn’t even a pot of water hung over it to boil up.